#not exaggerating when i say my brain is FULL of thoughts of these fics

[goingxmissing]

kinkmeme fic recs

I wish there were fic posts for these that I could reblog, so in the absence of that (and the spirit of just having pressed 'post' on a totally unhinged comment), thought I would share a couple of fics that I have thoroughly enjoyed over the past couple of weeks:

you signed up for this - lando norris/oscar piastri/older oscar piastri. time travel, threesome, double penetration

but i found i'm bound - oscar piastri/mark webber. a/b/o, dubcon, breeding

side by side in orbit - lando norris/oscar piastri, max fewtrell/lando norris. cuckolding, voyeurism, open relationships

nobody wants you as bad as i do - lando norris/oscar piastri. lingerie, angst with a happy ending (and house edge, toxic lando/oscar/daniel set in the same universe)

So many other glorious prompts and fills to check out at the kinkmeme. Give our amazing authors some love 🥰

#not exaggerating when i say my brain is FULL of thoughts of these fics #so so so much joyous content being shared through the kinkmeme #fic rec #go forth and enjoy and leave unhinged comments!! #landoscar #lando/oscar #max f/lando #lando/max f #oscar/mark #mark/oscar #ln4 #op81 #dr3 #max fewtrell #mark webber #oscarmark

[mothcabinet]

Just found this going though my google drive 😭

Summary:

"A man who knows to pair rabbit with a Beaujolais." The stranger spoke

Ghost instantly tenses up. Acutely aware of the Scot's eyes watching him, studying him even.

"I know I don't seem like the type..."

"No, you do."

And the man smiled at him. It wasn't one of those fake smiles that somehow conveys “If I smile maybe he won’t hurt me.”

It was a real, genuine smile. This total stranger had managed to break down all the walls he desperately put up, with a simple smile. Simon Riley knew that he was absolutely and utterly fucked.

Oh look yet another Soapghost apocalypse fic shocked emoji

(No I didn’t start this in early January when I was also brain rotting on TLOU that’s insanneeeeee)

————————————————————————

September 18th, 2003

“A virus. Researchers are saying it’s due to cordyceps. A fungus that attacks the brain. Makes the victims lose every part of themselves. It’s fucked up man…”

Ghost closes his laptop and rubs his eyes.

He tries not to panic. This will all blow over in a few weeks. Something like that isn’t fucking possible. It’s just the media exaggerating a story from some small town in the Middle East. He’s protected here. The closest town is 80 kilometers. His property is surrounded by an electric fence. Hell, he even set up cameras so he could constantly watch over the place. (Price’s solution to get him to stop calling him every time he swear he saw someone in the woods)

He takes a moment and lets himself breathe. He attempts to do those stupid breathing exercises Roach taught him.

“Everything will be fine.” He decides and doesn’t give it another thought.

November 28th, 2003

[rewrite] Ghost sat in his bunker. The only source of light being the shitty computer monitor in front of him. The scene in front of him is anything but pretty.

Innocent people getting loaded up like pigs to the slaughter.

“Idiots.” He thinks bitterly. He’s not stupid. He knows those people are walking towards their own deaths. Hell, he’s ex-military. He knows how these guys think.

Eliminate the threat before it's even considered one.

It’s the military’s sick way of trying to grasp control. He hates the way he understands. How he knows how much innocent blood is on his hands. It makes him sick of how willing these “people” are to kill children.

He eventually tears his eyes away from the scene in front of him. The feelings of the past rearing its ugly head. Remembering all the things that we’re supposed to be dead along with Simon Riley.

“Christ, I need a drink.”

And with that, he decides to end the day with his only source of warmth, an old bottle of (Kentucky) Bourbon.

(Which was supposed to be opened when Tommy turned 21…but he can’t fathom remembering that right now…)

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #soapghost #cod mw2 #ghost x soap #mw2 au #soap cod #soap call of duty #soap mw2 #ghost cod #ghostsoap #i just think they're neat #gay gay homosexual gay

[yourlocalghoulette]

this is Halloween

Miguel x fem!reader

warnings- 18+ MDNI, smut, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), a bit of a costume kink, breeding kink, not proofread.

w/c: 1.1k YALL THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN

authors note- guys idk why this took me so long to write😭 my adhd rly said NOPE YOUR BRAIN IS NOT WRITING TODAY so it took me forever lmao. hope yall enjoy some spicy Miguel, reblogs always help!!

staring at your mirror, your mouth tugs up in a small, prideful grin at your costume. you are the sexy devil, wearing a red spandex tube top that tied in the front and a matching red miniskirt. your makeup is exaggerated but alluring, your lips painted bright red with lipstick. your hair is left down in loose curls, a headband with red horns holding them out of your face. your costume is perfect, but the only thing missing is….

you gasp as Miguel walks out of the bathroom, wearing a blood red suit and tie with a red top hat with horns on his head. the suit looks like it had been made just for him, fitting him in all the right places, accentuating his muscular build.

“good god,” you gasp, trying to take in his looks. “you look so good.” you grin up at him.

“so do you, muñeca,” he replies in his low voice that never ceases to send butterflies straight into your stomach.

“ready to go?”

Miguel holds his arm up so you can wrap your arm around his, making you giggle.

“lead the way, mi pequeña belleza,” he croons, following you to the front door. (my little beauty)

as you and Miguel step into your friends costume party, you feel all eyes falling on you and Miguel. ignoring the attention, you grab Miguel’s arm and tug it slightly.

“come on baby, let’s go eat. im starving.”

the night is full of fun, playing spooky games and carving pumpkins, plenty of cocktails and a costume competition. you and Miguel won best couples costume. as Miguel got more drunk throughout the night, you notice how he becomes more and more affectionate over you. he cannot keep his hands off of you, seeing you in that tight spandex top that squeezed your breasts together just right, showing enough cleavage to make his cock twitch. as you sit at a table together talking with a friend, you notice his hand start to snake up your inner thigh, making its way to your clothed cunt. you give him a look. “not right here,” you whisper. he looks into your eyes, his dark red eyes so full of lust and need that he thought he’d explode.

“im just- ahem- going to run to the bathroom real quick,” he says quickly, getting up from his seat. he beckons with his head for you to follow him. as soon as the bathroom door is locked, his lips are on yours, kissing you with such fervor that your knees grow weak. he pins you up against the wall, not breaking the suffocating kiss that he is planting on your lips. he makes quick work of unlacing the sides of your costume, ripping it off along with your flimsy white panties.

“god, such a pretty pussy,” he groans, kneeling down but keeping your hips planted to the wall. he licks a stripe up your folds, enjoying the little whimpers and mewls you make when he teases you. “fuck, so gorgeous for me, bebita,” he croons before taking your clit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud. he enjoys how you quiver above him as he eats you out, back arching against the wall as you moan his name.

“please, baby- i need- i need…” you are unable to make a full sentence, your brain cloudy with the pure need for this man. “tell me what you need, princesa,” he groans into your pussy, sending vibrations through you that make your body shudder. “i-i need you-oh god,” you moan as he shoves two fingers inside of you. he nods in approval, then straightens up and unbuttons his red pants. he pulls his hard, throbbing cock out of his boxers, giving it a few solid pumps with his hand, giving himself more pleasure than you thought he would indulge in. “please, baby, I need you so bad,” you whimper as his mouth curls up in a devilish grin, enjoying the way your body writhes in impatience. finally, finally he lines up his tip with your throbbing hole and pushes himself all the way in brutally, not caring to let you adjust. you let out a silent scream, holding your hand over your mouth so the others won’t hear the way he’s fucking you. he pushes in and out of you mercilessly, always making sure that your cunt hit the patch of hair at the base of his dick before he pulls out again. he dives his head into the side of your neck, biting it until it bleeds then quickly using his tongue to soothe the pain. “such a good girl,” he moans into your ear, making the butterflies in your stomach start flying again. “oh-god,” you moan as his tip hits your cervix over and over and over. “I’m so close,” you manage to stutter out, your brain completely numb from the way he’s fucking you against the wall. “go ahead, cum for me, corazón,” he growls, fucking you faster as he chases his own climax. your eyes roll back as your vision turns white, hearing only static in your ears as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. you have to bite your hand to hold back a scream as Miguel somehow fucks you faster. “fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Miguel whimpers, his voice growing deeper. “Gonna plant a baby in you, huh, muñeca? Gonna make you a mami- fuck,” he moans deep in his throat as you feel his cock twitch inside you, your pussy milking him for all he has. he stays inside of you for a few more seconds, making sure it takes before pulling out and slowly stroking his length. “Jesus, you’re so pretty,” he coos as he watches you, your body still shuddering slightly as you pull your costume back on.

#miguel ohara #miguel smut #miguel ohara x reader

[waddingham]

not to just leave my fic brain worms out in the open like this for god and all to see but if anyone wants 900 words that are a direct result of whatever the fuck THIS is.........come and get it

He loves a team bus. Win or lose – or draw – it's an exceptional feeling, almost tangible, to be a part of something right alongside two dozen other people. There's no mistaking the sense of being so fully in the same boat with everyone else, feeling the same things and supporting each other in the reach for success, however it may come, whatever it may manifest as.

Today it was a light-hearted feeling – they'd won, spirits are high, Beard even higher and, well…

Somehow they got Rebecca today, blessing them all with her presence, her humor, her sweet voice. It had circled them in the back of the noisy bus and he couldn't help but nod along as he made an attempt on Sharon's advice, writing out his thoughts, his feelings, all the while marveling at the clarity of Rebecca's voice even as she slouched into the seat.

It was a long trip – for her especially, he thinks wryly, so it's no wonder at all that she's long asleep by the time they roll up to the dark club.

He does wonder a little at her choice of pillow. Has been ever since she slid back into the corner next to him, legs out long and head tipped onto his shoulder.

"Let's see how good a pillow you make, Coach," she'd muttered and by God, if he didn't make himself the best damn pillow this side of the Atlantic.

He hadn't moved chatting with Beard, or fiddling with his phone, or going over his notes again. And when the bus started to dim bit by bit, Beard passing out and Greyhounds falling asleep, he'd just tipped his head back, breathing in whatever lovely floral scent follows her around and letting all the safety and comfort around him relax his tired body.

He's safe here. He's content here, in these moments in the dark bus with his team, with Rebecca at his side, listening to the intermittent rain tap the roof. And he relishes each one, each moment, knowing the next may be bereft of this peace.

Beard snaps up as soon as the brakes hiss, looking dazed only for a moment as the boys start to nudge each other awake. He takes him in, then Rebecca, a grin spreading over his face.

"Should I wait up?" he asks as he stands, still in that ridiculous wig.

Ted shakes his head, waving him off as the bus starts to empty, then looks down at the blonde head on his shoulder.

Something like two hours ago, she'd wiggled against him, threading her arm under his, her hand flat against his forearm. He smiles down at it now, her fingertips resting on the heel of his hand. He curls his fingers, brushing them over the familiar soft pink color on her nails and his smile grows, his chest warm.

"Rebecca," he murmurs, squeezing her fingers more firmly. "Boss."

"Mm?" she grunts without moving and he almost chuckles.

"Home sweet home," he says, nudging her gently with his elbow. She sighs, squeezing his arm to her but still not moving to go.

"Unless you plan on spending the night in this bus," he says. "And let me tell you, if you're sore from your little swim earlier, sleeping on this probably ain't gonna do much for it."

She tilts her head on his shoulder just enough to shoot him a dirty look.

"Don't be a dick," she mutters. "It wasn't fucking marked as a bike lane."

"Mmhmm, 'course it wasn't," he says indulgently.

Her look gets dirtier.

He just chuckles, squeezing her fingers. "How'd I do as a pillow? I'm accepting feedback."

"Four stars," she says, lifting her head from his shoulder but not moving to rise.

"Four?" he says with an exaggerated frown.

"You lose a star for being too good," she says, rolling her head on her shoulders. "I didn't mean to sleep for so long."

"Oh," he chuckles. "Well, I'll take that."

She sighs again, taking in the fact that they're the last on the bus before turning to him, tipping her head against the seat. She gives him a small smile, almost clandestine, eyes full of the same contentment he's been filling his reserves with.

Her voice is hushed when she speaks. "Were you just gonna let us get locked in here or…?"

He snorts a little bit. "We got at least two more minutes before the boys sort out their bags and Ricky always checks before he gets the bus to the garage."

"Mmm," she hums, looking down at their hands for a long moment. Her fingers curl experimentally against the tender skin inside his wrist, sending tingles up his arm before carefully releasing him to sit up. "Thanks for letting me sleep on you."

"Oh, anytime," he says, meaning it entirely even as he rolls his stiff shoulder in its socket. He stands, lifting his backpack from the floor and over his shoulder before stepping around the tiny table, holding a hand out to her.

She smiles up at him as she slides her hand into his.

"You know what, Coach Lasso," she says as she rises, twinkling just a little bit. "I just might take you up on it."

He gasps dramatically.

"After all the fight you put up about joining us on the bus–"

She rolls her eyes, still grinning as she pulls him down the aisle, "Come on."

"Oh, but riding on the bus was gonna be such a long trip, such a nuisance–"

"Shut it."

"You can't tell me you had fun–"

He giggles when she pulls up short before the step down, releasing his hand to point a finger at him.

"I hate the bus."

He grins at her. "You're a terrible liar."

She huffs, but it does little to counteract her smile as she steps off the bus.

He lingers for a moment, his fingers still warm from being tangled up with hers. He closes his fist, trying to hold onto it as he follows her back down to solid ground.

#tedbecca #ted x rebecca #wrote this purely with the vibes alright so i don't wanna hear it when the facts are wrong and im completely off base #tl drabbles #ted lasso spoilers #well based on them anyway

[0mistymystery]

Home alone

Hello! Second fic here on my blog, this time about Spiderman, I really didn't want to make a very exaggerated scene and leave the humorous touch (yeah, I must learn to handle it better)

Summary: Peter one is left alone at home, a young man and boredom? It didn't end well, the adult Peters will do something about it

In a world where the three Peters live together and save the day as the now known "Spider Squad" or the friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

But what happens with the life behind the heroes? Where they take off their masks and take their well-deserved breaks, passing unnoticed among the crowd being simple humans, well... it's not far from reality!

Peter two and three were considered the "protective parents", always taking care of their beloved spider child, who called himself an independent adult, in the eyes of true adults he was not like that...

"We'll just go out for a moment to the supermarket, can you take care of yourself?"

"Please, I'm not five years old! Of course, I can be alone, you surely were more problematic at my age"

Peter three was about to agree with him, but Peter two interrupted him, putting a hand over his mouth.

"Don't encourage the child."

Alright! A day of solitude at home, loud music, junk food, dangerous training, it would be great!Or that's what the redhead thought when he realized that only thirty minutes had passed to finish all the fun he wanted to have...

"Being alone is not that fun... damn it"

Quickly Peter one covered his mouth (the no swearing rule) oh it's true, his "guardians" aren't at home. The mind of a bored young man with a bright brain can cause too crazy ideas in moments like these, Peter one seems to have a great idea.

*Small talk between Peter two and three*

-Are you sure we did the right thing leaving the kid alone? you know he doesn't get along well with boredom.

-He also doesn't get along well with rules, but hey! we have to learn to trust him, what's the worst that could happen?

While both Peters had this little interaction, they opened the door of the apartment, finding "the worst that could happen" the house was full of spider webs, there wasn't a single free place. The groceries fell to the floor, an apple rolled on the floor, breaking the shock silence.

"H-hello?! Are you back already?... I think I'm in trouble!"

Peter one, problems, two words that couldn't be together in a sentence... the most adults ran towards where the voice of help came from, the spider webs made it more difficult but they could finally reach the youngest of the three. Peter one, was trapped between spider webs, his arms firmly immobile over his head, with his legs tangled between said spider webs. Peter two and three didn't even need to ask what happened, the explanation was given by itself...

"I wanted to make a long-lasting spider web, but it exploded accidentally and well... this happened..."

The adult Peters simply sighed with regret.

"I told you it was not a good idea to leave him alone."

"I'll listen to you next time..."

"I'll accept any punishment, j-just help me get out of here!"

Peter two was about to help the youngest, but he was quickly stopped by Peter three.

"You know? I think we could give you your punishment right now."

Peter two was very confused, but seeing the playful smile and mischievous expression on his partner's face, he immediately understood what he meant and was clearly going to be an accomplice to everything, both looked at the redhead who was still trapped in those spider webs.

"Wait! what are you going to do?"

Without saying a word, both Peters approached, pretending they were going to help him out of his "little problem".

"We're going to get these webs off you, can't you see it?"

"Yeah, just stay still, we'll finish soon."

"Oh, thank you, for a moment I thought... WOAH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Peter two had touched that laughter bone just in Peter one's hip, pretending to be innocent, the second arachnid just said "helping you!" Peter one wanted to refuse, but quickly another complaint escaped from his mouth when he felt another touch on his side, this time the cause was Peter three.

"Oh no... no no! I know what you're trying to do! it's not fair! I'm defenseless and totally vulnerable!"

Peter one wanted to do everything to complain and apologize for his mistakes, but his two caretakers had started with their "special punishment" making tickles in sensitive areas in Peter one, causing the youngest to laugh unable to do anything about it.

"I-I'm sorry! Hahaha! It was an accident! I swear!" exclaimed Peter one between laughs."

"An accident that could have been prevented if you didn't think of crazy ideas," said Peter two while continuing to move his fingers over Peter one's hips. Peter three just showed a playful smile while discovering new places that could make the redhead laugh.

"Woah! Not there! Hahaha! Please! I'm so sorry!"

shouted Peter one between laughs.The more experienced Spidermen stopped when they heard the loud laughter of the least experienced one. "He really has tickles!" said Peter three, and Peter two nodded in agreement as they dangerously approached Peter one's armpits.

"N-no... No no! Please! I'm begging! Waaah! Hahahaha! Monsthehehehers!!!"

After a while, Peter one couldn't mention any word without his laughter intervening first.The two Peters knew it had been enough when the redhead ran out of voice and laughter, thus releasing his body trapped in those spider webs.

"Are you okay?" asked Peter two, somewhat concerned.Peter one simply raised his thumb as a sign of "ok". He was fine, and deep down, his punishment had been very amusing. And the spider webs covering the apartment... well, they'll take care of them later.

#sfw tk community #tickle content #tickle fic #spiderman tickle #lee!pedro #pelusa de parker #tickle thoughts #tword community #sfw tickle community

[womaninwinter]

Writing vs Visual Art

Prompts from @insidethekaleidoscope: if you both write and make visual art, how would you compare the experiences?

Have you always done both or is one a more recent hobby?

I've always been doodler and a storyteller, but it's only recently that I started thinking of them as Art. When I was a kid, I thought I was going to be a writer. When I was a teen, I thought I was going to be an artist. And now I'm writing again.

2. Do you prefer one over the other? Why?

I am a better (more practiced) writer than artist, so I am generally happier with the results of my writing than my drawing/painting. At the moment I'm on a writing kick, but there was definitely a long period where I preferred visual art, and I think this also had to do with the online spaces I was hanging out in. When I'm in fandom spaces, the primary way I can contribute is writing, so I tend to do that. When I was not into fandoms, and was just more generally into Insta art communities, I was seeing a lot of art, so I was doing a lot of art.

3. Are you drawn to the same themes in both?

Hm. Now, I never thought of myself as having Themes in my visual art, again because I'm not that good at it and thus I don't have a great deal of control. However, there are definite stylistic commonalities. My thought process tends towards gothic/intricate/exaggerated/intense and both my art and my writing have those characteristics.

4. Do you see them as connected practices?

This is funny. I've never thought about them as connected, mostly because I only seem to have the time/energy to do one creative hobby at a time. The times when I produce a lot of art are the times when my writing is fallow and vice versa. That said, I think that producing visual art sometimes helps unstick me in my writing, but then again, so does writing longhand on paper, so possibly it's just easier to be creative when I'm not taking psychic damage from the screen.

5. Do you feel more confident in one than the other?

As is probably obvious from my answers so far, I'm much more confident in writing than drawing/painting, but this is mostly because I've had more practice and training in writing. I've had almost no formal art lessons (until a couple of years ago when I did a life-painting class, which did actually rule), but writing was part of my education all the way up, and then it became part of my job, as a translator. Wish I had more time to practice/learn art, but alas, the brain worms are dead set on writing right now.

6. Do you do both at once or do you have periods of time where you only write or only make art?

Also mostly already answered. I can do both, if I really make a conscious effort to build it in, but it takes a lot of discipline and I don't have much of that. I really wish I had the brain space to do both, because I love painting and I miss it. But I do still make art in that I doodle constantly - all my notebooks have little scribbles in the margins, of castles and funny little people and flowers. My work diary is stuffed full of little scraps of paper like this.

7. Does one come easier than the other?

I would be tempted to say writing, but it really depends on what type of art or writing I'm doing. I doodle without thinking or even meaning to. If I have a pen and paper, the difficulty is stopping my hand from drawing. But a big writing project (like a chapter of a fic for example) comes more easily to me than an artistic project.

8. Do you feel more invested in one than the other?

This also varies over time and I think is hugely influenced by what I'm getting more feedback about/what forms part of my social life. At present, my social circle really revolves around writing to a great extent, so I'm super invested in that. But up until very recently, my answer would have been 100% the other way around. I have a drawer full of sketchbooks that I was so so painfully proud of.

9. Does one medium feel more true to you or representative of who you are as a person?

I don't think so, although I think I do tend to be more surprised to see myself coming out in my art. I'm often very conscious of what I'm doing in my writing, and I'm usually aware of a lot of what I'm revealing about myself in it. Because I'm less in control of my art, it's always a surprise to see how specific it is to me, that unbeknownst to myself, I was drawing an experience that I was having.

10. Do you decorate your house with your art and do you reread your writing?

I was going to say 'no' to decorating my house and then I looked up to the right at the massive portrait from my life-painting class stuck up on my wall and rethought that answer. So yes to the art, but not a whole lot. I do tend to reread my writing until I'm sick of it. And then I leave it a few months and come back reread it and think "oh hell ya, this girl knows my tastes exactly." (Actually, maybe this is why I'm less happy to decorate with my art. I'm not really good enough to cater to my own tastes there.)

11. What do you find the experiences have in common?

Flow state I think. It's been a long time since I reached it for either medium (creativity's always in bits and snatches with me, because that's generally all I have time for. It's easier for me to write 100 words though then it is to do a 10-minute sketch.) but the sensation of being totally absorbed, of not noticing time passing, and the burning pride and joy when you produce something good is the same in both cases.

All done! Thank you Mo for this very interesting and much needed exercise in self-reflection. I think I'll draw something now!

#art talk #reflecting with the help of Mo

[allfoolsinluv]

In 2022, I read an ungodly amount of fanfic haha. Not only has it been my favorite way to escape from real life, but it also brought me into the orbit of some really cool people, and I'm glad I got to spend part of my year joining this neat little community 🥰 I thought it would be fun to put together a list of some of my favorite fics from this year! This is by no means a completely comprehensive list, but if you'd like to see all of the fics I've read & loved this year, you can check out my full fic rec tag! So, without further ado, here are some of my favorite fics of 2022 😄

SERIES

Lie to Me by @iamskyereads

Ahhh such a good fic! I live for Javier & his human lie detector. They have such amazing chemistry together and I love them as a couple, but I also adore how interesting and well-written they both are as individuals. I love reading about them when they're together, but I also love seeing their lives/work when they're not. Also, the political & bureaucratic drama is so entertaining! I love it. Everything about this fic is *chef's kiss* 10/10

The Crush by @the-ginger-hedge-witch

Ok I am, admittedly, a bit behind on this fic (thx life 🙃), but it is not an exaggeration when I say that I think about this fic all the time. Javi & Isa have occupied their own little part of my brain since part 1. This fic is beautifully crafted and I love how well all of the elements come together in this story. The "forbidden" love, the small-town dynamics, the strained family relationships... ugh, this fic really has everything. I can't wait to catch up on it!

Learning to Live by @wheresarizona

JAVI & CIELITO MY BELOVEDS. Omg these two just melt my heart. I love their love!! It's so nice to see Javi getting the happy, love-filled life he deserves post-Colombia. These two were meant for each other and I have a dopey smile on my face every time I read about them 🥰

Irredeemable by @joels6string

Oh my god the emotional ROLLERCOASTER this series has put me through... so worth it lol. This fic is so well-written, I love it so much. The plot is incredible--truly an unconventional love story, but one I found myself quickly hooked into because of the characters. Dieter & Poppy really are the shining stars of this fic. They're real and raw and flawed and imperfect but that's what makes them so good. I love them & I love this fic

Everything and More by @dincrypt

The way this fic makes me want to quit my job & find myself a rich sugar daddy LOL. Just kidding (mostly 😉). Ugh I love this fic so much. The evolution of Din & Sweetheart's relationship is my favorite part of it. It flows so naturally and feels so realistic. I am a sucker for the pain of "idiots in love who don't realize the other person is also in love with them" and boy does this fic DELIVER on that lol. Din & Sweetheart are forever on my mind and I can't wait to see how their relationship progresses next!

Sunshine On a Cloudy Day by @pedrito-friskito

Oh my Frankie 🥺 This fic melted me into a PUDDLE. Such a sweet love story. I love how they progress from friends to lovers. How she stood firm in her decision to not be with Frankie if he wasn't going to be clean. How he worked on himself & got clean because he knew she'd be worth it. And seeing them grow their little family 😭 I love them I love them I love them

Funny Girl by @radiowallet

I cannot mention Cat in this list without absolutely gushing over how much I adore her prose. The way she writes is so beautiful and so elegant without falling into purple prose. I feel like I'm gliding every time I read something of hers, and Funny Girl was no exception. I loved this fic with my whole entire heart. The build-up to Dieter & Funny Girl getting together was intense but so worth it. Their characterizations were phenomenal. The ending was so bittersweet, I still think about it months later. Truly one of my favorite--and one of the best, honestly--fics I have ever read.

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. by @oonajaeadira

I know the original GTTT was posted last year, but I discovered it in March or April (I can't remember lol) of this year and absolutely devoured it. I love how Adira has taken such a small character from one episode of a TV show and turned him into a compelling & complex one. PATS from Calls no longer exists to me, there is only PATS from GTTT lol. I love the progression of his & Preciosa's relationship throughout this series. It feels so real and I just love how they've grown into their relationship over time.

Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried

Oh how I absolutely adored this series. I'm a sucker for coffee shop AUs, soulmates, and Dieter Bravo, so this fic really had everything for me 😌 I loved the opposites attract feel of this fic, and how in the end it turned out that they really weren't all that different after all. I love how supportive Dieter was of her and how he really gave her the space to grow into her own. And how he wasn't pushy with her when it came to their relationship, he let her guide the pace and come to him naturally. Literally perfect for each other, these two 🥺😭

Locked Down by @something-tofightfor

Another fic that I am a little behind on but holds a dear place in my heart 💗 I just adore these two. I love how their relationship blossomed from friends to lovers to actually being together. I love how he waited for her to be ready to admit that their relationship would work, even if they were apart. How thoughtful Dieter is in this fic makes me swoon. THE RING gets me every time I think about it 🥺

Love Triangles by @littlemisspascal

Oh my GOD this was one of the cutest fics I have ever read! I loved the atmosphere of this fic, and I thought it was so creative how the cast of The Bubble were all tenants in the same apartment building. The Disney nicknames were so adorable 🥺😭 I loved the slow burn of this fic--it made Dieter & Lady finally getting together that much sweeter 💗

Click here for part 2, a list of some of my favorite one-shots that I read in 2022!

#fic rec #javier peña x reader #dieter bravo x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro across the street x reader

[crazybutgood]

Day 1 (phoebe-delia)

The first gift is dedicated to @phoebe-delia from @basicallyahedgehog! Please click on the images for better quality and view the video for the quotes inside the book 😊:

Images’ description: in the image on the left, there’s a closed green origami book with ‘phoebe’ written on the front cover in cursive in black ink. In the image on the right, the book is opened to show its pages and the cactus origami bookmark.

Video description: the full cactus bookmark is shown. The book is flipped through to display the quotes handwritten in cursive in blue ink from Phoebe’s fics. The quotes shown here are also typed out below the cut.

Phoebe, here’s Georgie’s fic rec and message to you!:

Pheebs, my musical-loving, Drarry and Jeddy shipping, glee love-hating, Swiftie brain twin. I do not have the words for just how much you mean to me. In just a few short months you have become not only an incredible friend, but truly a little sister. 

Your all-caps tags and discord messages never fail to make my day, and I know that I will always have someone in my corner with you around. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I would 100000000% fight someone for you, and would gladly jump on a plane to do so. 

You are truly a one of a kind friend, and I am so so incredibly grateful for you. I love you to the edges of the universe and back. 

To quote a certain cactus, “I want to see how many times I can bring unexpected joy into your life.” (Life’s like an hourglass glued to the table)

funny how those memories, they last (T, 2154) (Teddy/James, background Draco/Harry)

“Name’s Teddy Lupin. I’m Andromeda’s grandson. Your dad hired me to lend a hand on the ranch.”

James shook himself, mind whirring with vague memories of his dad mentioning some family friend who was a cousin of Draco’s. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, and he assumed Teddy was, well, a child. Not some blue-haired, smirking suave sex god with dimples and an endearingly crooked nose who just waltzed into the kitchen with his tight jeans and sweaty shirt and opened the fridge like he lived here, while James stood there in a ratty t-shirt and boxers with snitches on them.

I had the absolute pleasure of watching this fic come to life, and it will never not bring me joy. Confident, ranch hand Teddy and awkward, sweet James? Yes please. Throw in a side of hot rancher Harry and matchmaker Draco, and this fic is the perfect feel-good read, as is its gorgeous sequel.

Go leave some love for Phoebe on this fic, and check out her ao3 here! Book’s quotes and corresponding fics are below the cut:

this is me trying (T, 12k)

1. We all have our struggles and reasons for them. What’s important is that we take the steps we can every day to make them better.

2. “Ah, yes, the ceremonial bread exchange which must begin any fledgling friendship.”

3. “Well, yes, but my point is that maybe we weren’t who we each needed to be, yet, in order to become friends.”

sweet dreams of holly and ribbon (T, 1227)

Draco, usually so serious and buttoned-up, approached each tree with childlike wonder, and the sight of him so happy and uninhibited made Harry’s heart clench with something he usually tried to suppress.

all i need is you next to me  (T, 749) (Jeddy)

"I play with balls for a living, Ted, with other young, sweaty, fit men."

Be Mine: Phoebe's Candy Hearts, Chapter 6 (T) (fem!Drarry)

“I’m so in love with you I can taste it,”

funny how those memories, they last (T, 2154) (Jeddy, background Drarry)

James nodded, leaning in to kiss him. Above them, the stars twinkled with hope.

Come Back, Be Here (T, 834) (Jeddy)

when I was away, whenever I thought of home, I didn’t think of the ranch or the cabin or the horses or the Burrow. I thought of you

#book 1 #gifted to #phoebe-delia #from #basicallyahedgehog #author appreciation origami project #cbg folds #origami #mine #fic rec #jeddy #drarry #fem!Drarry #harry potter

[wanderingaldecaldo]

💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

Thank you so much @kohnnor!! 🥰

I posted about Val as the creation I like the most for the first ask I got, but by god I'm gonna answer every one of these because I'm really proud of all the stuff I've made in the last few years!

My longfic No One's Gonna Love You is right behind Val as far as creations I love. As I mentioned in that post and in others, I hadn't felt compelled to write in a long time. I have a couple of WIPs from DA:I and ME2 that I would pull out to work on whenever I had inspiration, but that wasn't often. I wouldn't say that I missed writing so much as the idea of being a writer.

When I started Cyberpunk, I had no preconceptions about the NPCs or romances, and I certainly didn't expect to fall for a minor NPC with not much screen time. (This is the first time it's happened to me, actually.) Initially I was captivated by Goro like so many others, but I fell in love with Mitch when V woke up in Pan's truck during The Star ending, and he was waiting for V to wake up. Any thoughts of writing a Pride & Prejudice inspired fic between Goro and V flew out the window because of those beautiful blue eyes.

For months Val and Mitch consumed my brain. I stayed up late every night to write, pouring more and more of myself into the story, learning more about both Val and Mitch as I went. At the time, I felt it was some of my best prose, like the intervening years that I hadn't been writing but was still consuming other media didn't matter. As if I was able to translate the years of experience I'd accumulated into words that could evoke feelings. What was meant to be a fun, smutty romp turned into a study of grief and loss.

And I found a new freedom to play like I hadn't experienced before. I experimented with the narrative; used repetition in different ways; played with flashbacks and dialogue; left room for characters to breathe and tell the story their own way. I had more fun writing that story than just about anything else I'd written to that point in my life.

More than that, I also learned how to create for myself. It didn't matter that I ended up in rare pair hell with few people there to cheer me on, because I was the target audience for the fic. It's the most self-indulgent thing I've written, because I wrote it for me.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. Words aren't as exciting or captivating as pictures, but words are my life, and these words in particular are some of the best words I've ever put together.

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mitch Anderson/V (Cyberpunk 2077), Female V/Mitch Anderson, Referenced Mitch Anderson/Scorpion, Mitch Anderson (Cyberpunk 2077)/Original Character(s) Characters: V (Cyberpunk 2077), Mitch Anderson (Cyberpunk 2077), Streetkid V - Character, Panam Palmer, Carol Emeka, Cassidy Righter Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Spoilers, The Star Ending (Cyberpunk 2077), Angst, Angst and Feels, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gratuitous Smut, Shameless Smut, like a ridiculous amount of it, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Character, Stand Alone Series: Part 2 of Into My Arms Summary:

V studies his face, half shadow, half moonlit. He is handsome, now that she’s looking for it—once broken Roman nose, full, expressive lips, slate blue eyes now full of concern, the scar exaggerated by the shadows. How could she have missed this, missed him? So much time wasted.

#cyberpunk 2077 #mail time! #kohnnor #thank you so much for the ask! <3 #i love this piece sm #always excited to talk about it #cyberpunk fanfic #wash's writing #mitch x v #mitch x fem v #mitch x val

[bonkie-barnes]

Spoons

natasha romanoff x gn!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: chronic illness, mention of medicine, self deprecating thoughts

A/N: this is me 1000% projecting about my guilt that comes with my chronic illnesses. they're kicking my ass rn. this is a vent fic, but if you resonate with this at all, i hope you enjoy :)

- - -

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm clock on Natasha’s bedside table has been going off for a full minute already. You merely roll over and cover your head with Natasha’s pillow. It smells like her.

You have absolutely no energy to get up, let alone reach across the bed to turn the alarm off. Your head feels heavy and your body aches something terrible.

The list of chores you have to do around the house today sits uncomfortably in the back of your mind. The list of friends who have texted you about making plans to hang out sits there too. The idea of staying in bed all day sounds more and more appealing by the second. You know this because the alarm is still blaring into the otherwise peaceful morning air.

Just as you’re gathering the strength to sit up and turn the alarm off, Natasha walks in. She looks at her watch and her brow furrows in confusion.

“What are you doing, sleepyhead?” she asks you with a little smirk. There is concern in her eyes, though she masks it well.

You’re both fully aware the alarm has been going off for seven minutes straight now.

“Just tired, love. You know how much work it takes to reach over,” you say in a joking manner, hopeful that you can get past this without worrying her too much.

Natasha eyes you suspiciously for a second before giving in.

“How was your workout?” you ask her sincerely.

As she starts rambling about her morning activities, you feel a sense of shame. You’ve barely managed to wake up in the time it’s taken her to complete a full workout routine. Hell, you couldn’t even find it in you to turn the alarm off.

You finally focus on her rant as it comes to an end. Natasha is looking at you expectantly. Shit. She’s asked you a question.

“Huh?” you grunt.

She chuckles before answering, “I asked if you were ever going to get up and get in the shower, stinky.”

You put on a fake smile but fail to meet her eyes, the shame eating you up. It has been a few days since your last shower, but it’s just so hard to find the strength and energy to get up and stand in one place for more than a minute or two.

If Natasha notices the far away look in your eyes and the grimace on your mouth, she doesn’t say anything.

After one of the quickest and most unproductive showers you’ve ever taken, you find Natasha waiting for you in the kitchen. She’s taken it upon herself to make breakfast for you both.

You kiss her cheek and thank her as you sit down at the table. The warm cup of coffee she sets down in front of you is a godsend. The warmth emitting from the cup helps to diminish the pain in your knuckles, if only slightly. You send up a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that the caffeine will help with the fatigue today instead of making you sick.

Natasha sits down in the chair next to you with her own plate. She runs her eyes over you in a scrutinizing manner. She wants to think you don’t notice, but you do.

Clearing your throat in hopes to take her focus off you, you ask about her plans for the day.

“Oh, you know, mostly just busy work. I have a ton of paperwork to get through,” she tells you through an exaggerated sigh. “What about you?”

The list of chores screams at you again. “Mostly just some things around the house. Grocery shopping, laundry, boring shit like that.”

Natasha hums around a sip of her coffee. It surprised you just how much cream and sugar she takes in hers. It’s just one of the many unpredictable things about her that made you fall in love.

“Super exciting. I hate to miss out,” she teases you.

You crack a smile to appease her. Inside, though, you realize just how little she understands. These errands seem so simple to her, when to you, they are the most daunting of tasks.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by Natasha standing up to take her plate to the sink. She comes back to kiss your cheek and let you know she’s going to go get ready, before walking out of the room.

You suspect the amount of housework you’ll get done today will be minimal, so you decide to at least make Natasha some lunch. Maybe it will lessen the disappointment she feels when she comes home to see everything exactly as it was when she left, you think.

Your plan is halted as you’re making her sandwich. The stupid cover on the peanut butter jar is stuck. You can’t open it for the life of you. The guilt comes in like a tidal wave. You can’t even do something as simple as make lunch for her, your brain supplies for you.

Natasha returns from getting ready to see you standing in the kitchen with a glare on your tired face.

“What’d the peanut butter do to you this time,” she jokes.

“I can’t.” Tears well up in your eyes.

She comes up to wrap you in a hug from behind. She softly asks, “What can’t you do?”

“I can’t open the jar,” you mutter softly, feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed.

“It’s okay, love. Let me help,” she tells you delicately before kissing the spot under your ear. She can tell this is affecting you more than usual and wishes for nothing more than to be able to take away your distress.

You mutter a thank you before continuing to make her sandwich. You pack everything into a bag and write a small note to finish it off. You know Natasha loves the little messages you leave her periodically, and nothing will stop you from trying to make her as happy as you can.

Goodbyes are said as you both wander closer to the door. Natasha makes sure to hold you longer and tighter than usual. You don’t comment on that.

The silence that encompasses the room as soon as the love of your life leaves is suffocating. You can feel the exhaustion from purely getting up and getting ready creeping up on you. Logically, you know that you shouldn’t overexert yourself, but the shame is eating you up. Already on a roll, might as well keep on going, you think to yourself.

You go back to your mental to-do list and debate what to start with. The grocery store doesn’t sound terrible. Some sun would do you some good. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen the world that exists outside of your house.

Wandering back to the bedroom to get your phone and shoes, you try to push the fatigue from your mind. In your attempt to block out the tiredness, you fail to recognize the ever-present pain in your joints increasing. It’s only when you sit down and bend over to put your shoes on that you register the feeling. Your hips ache severely; so much so, that you can’t hold your position long enough to get your shoe on your foot.

This seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, seeing as you immediately burst into tears. The pain mixed with your inability to do basic, everyday activities completely overwhelms you as you break down.

There’s absolutely no chance that you’re going to complete this task, let alone all the other ones on your list. You let out a sigh as you stand up and shuffle to your room, phone and shoes forgotten in the living room.

You let the weight of your emotions crush you as you climb into bed and under the covers, your wife’s pillow clutched closely to your chest.

Your tears cease to stop, even as you succumb to the sleep you so desperately wished to hold onto this morning.

- - -

Natasha comes home to an eerily silent house. On any typical day, she would come home to the noise of your favorite show or music softly playing, whether it be from a speaker or from your guitar. Your shared house consistently was filled with life and sound. It was one of her favorite parts of her day; coming home to you in your own element, laughing or singing. You are her home.

This newfound silence has her exceptionally worried. Even on your bad days, there was at least a laugh track coming from the TV or the smell of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen. Now, there’s absolutely nothing. For a split second, Natasha thinks that you may never have come back from the grocery. Her heart rate spikes. The sight of your phone on the coffee table and your shoes strewn haphazardly on the floor puts those worries to rest.

“Darling?” she calls from the entryway. There is no response. She carefully removes her boots and coat before moving through every room in the house, calling out for you softly in each.

She makes her way to the bedroom, lightly knocking on the door as she lets herself in. She sees the rise and fall of your chest and is filled with a sense of relief she didn't know she needed.

"Love? Are you awake?"

You grumble out an answer that could be understood as a 'yes'.

Natasha carefully sits down on the side of the bed that you are facing.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" she requests softly, in fear of upsetting the quiet environment of the bedroom and making things worse.

The tears that started up again when you wife called out the first time get even heavier somehow.

"Oh love, come here."

She carefully gathers you in her arms and rests your head on her chest.

"Does this have anything to do with the peanut butter jar this morning?"

You nod. One of your favorite things about your wife is her ability to observe and understand what you're going through.

"I just can't do anything today. Everything hurts and I'm so, so tired," you whisper, followed by a heartbreaking sob.

"It's okay love. Please don't cry," Natasha whispers back.

"But it's not! It's not okay!" You sit up from her chest to let out your rant. "You've done so much today and I could barely wake up. You work so hard and I should be able to do stuff around the house so you can come home and not have to worry about anything," you finish with a sigh.

Your wife puts her hand under your chin, forcing you to look in her direction. "Love, look at me. Believe me when I say that I don't care about the state of the laundry or if the pantry has been stocked. All I care about is you. All I want is for you to be okay. It's killing me that you feel like this and I can't do anything to take it away from you. What I can do, though, is tell you just how proud I am of you. You are the strongest person I know, and I work with the Avengers."

You giggled at that. Natasha smiles at your small second of happiness.

"Are you sure? Because I was going to get so much done today and I was trying to-"

Natasha cuts you off with a soft kiss.

"My love. Listen to me. All I care about is your health and happiness. If staying in bed and catching up on sleep is what you needed today, then that's all I expect from you. I never want you to hurt yourself trying to do more than you can. We all have limits. It’s okay to need a break some days. I love you and I am so very, very proud of you."

With a long look into her eyes, all you find is love and adoration directed towards you. There's no disgust or disappointment as you had anticipated.

"I love you too," you utter quietly.

Natasha smiles and leaves a long kiss on your forehead. "What if we got some pain killers and some food in you? We can even put on your favorite movie. Does that sound good?"

You nod. Natasha gets up to get you some medicine and to order some food, while you get your favorite movie loaded on the TV.

Later that night, when both your stomachs are full and your wife is obnoxiously singing along to the songs in the movie just to make you laugh, you realize just how loved you are.

You don't know how tomorrow will treat you, or the day after that. What you do know, however, is that Natasha will always be there to support and love you. Your pain level and ability to function is always an uncertainty, but your wife's love will never be.

- - -

A/N: as always, i try to keep it gender neutral. if you find a mistake, please let me know! feedback is appreciated! to all my chronic illness buddies out there: i love you, you've got this :)

taglist: @007giu

#natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #my fic #natasha romanoff x reader

[foli-vora]

i’ve got you

A/N: This fic is dedicated to @rise-my-angel and anyone else who has been stuck in a bad place mentally as of late, and is in need of a little bit of comfort & love. Frankie’s got you ❤️ I hope you enjoy. Love you, angels.

Another comforting Frankie fic if you need here.

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x gn!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: insecurities, anxiety, depression, panic attack

+

You wipe at your face, desperate to rid the evidence of your sadness before Frankie comes home from dropping Mena off at Santiago’s. It’s happening again, you can feel it. The shadow hanging in the back of your mind is growing, slowly eating away at everything in its path and you feel it now, scratching away at the back of your throat, desperate to get out. Push it down, push it away. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.

Tears return to your eyes and spill out before you can even think, cascading down your cheeks and leaving heated trails across your skin that chill instantly from the frigid air of the bathroom. Your chest tightens, and your hand flies to your chest, rubbing away at your skin like you could somehow rub the horrible constriction you feel wrapping around your lungs.

It’s not worth it. You’re not worth it.

No, you know that’s not true.

But what if it is?

No. Frankie loves you.

Does he?

Breathing becomes harder, as if the oxygen in the room has vanished, leaving you standing at the sink gasping, fighting to fill your lungs with something that will keep you going. The porcelain is ice under your hands as you clutch it, curling over the sink to remain steady and keep from falling to the floor.

Your eyes flicker up and meet your reflection in the mirror, and shock rattles through you. That’s not you. It can’t be. You feel your face crumble and tear your eyes away from your reflection, unable to watch the wave of anguish flood your face.

Legs shaking, you slowly lower to the cool tiled floor and succumb completely to the feeling clawing at your insides, harsh sobs wracking your frame as you feel the last of your steeled composure fade. And once it starts, it doesn’t stop.

The tears come in vast, unforgiving waves; your lungs struggling to keep up with the strength at which your cries tear through your body.

It was scarily overwhelming. Soon your surroundings blurred into nothing, your eyes unable to focus on any single thing around you.

You’re vaguely aware of something dropping to the floor and clattering against the tiles behind you – the sound of it only just breaking through the overwhelming fog drowning your senses. Strong arms wrap tightly around your torso and then your back is meeting a firm chest. Your hands fly to the legs spreading out beside you, skin rubbing along the rough fabric and fingers digging into the muscle beneath.

A voice is echoing in your ears but you can’t hear what they’re saying, you can’t focus on their voice. The ringing’s too loud. There’s too much static, too much blood rushing through your ears. It hurts. Everything hurts. Why can’t it just stop? When will it stop?

“Breathe with me,” someone murmurs in your ear, breath fanning your skin. Frankie. Your Frankie. He’s home, he’s here. He moves your hand, resting it softly on your chest before he covers it with his own. Your heart is erratic under your touch, chest jolting uneasily with the intensity of your gasps.

“I’m here. I’ve got you. Breathe – nice and steady.”

You try to listen, try to let his deep voice soothe away the all-consuming panic you feel coursing through your system. He pulls you tighter against his frame, exaggerating his deep breathing so you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.

It’s taking too long. You’re going to chase him away. He won’t want to be with someone with a screwed-up head – why are you the way you are? Why can’t you just be normal? He deserves someone better, someone who won’t have an attack in the middle of his bathroom.

This is his house. His house he shares with his daughter, and you’re ruining the warm loving atmosphere they created together with your stupid, stupid brain. You should leave. You shouldn’t be here. You don’t deserve to be here, in a place full of such love –

You don’t realise your breathing’s getting worse until he’s talking again; his words, by some miracle, melting through the dread pulling your body to the floor.

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s not? But why? He deserves better –

“I’m here.”

He’s here?

Yes, he is.

He’s here. With you.

You’re not alone.

“That’s it, baby. I’m here.”

He’s here, and he’s got you.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you. Keep breathing.”

You’re safe? Safe.

He’s got you.

Oxygen floods your lungs as you try to match the movement on him breathing behind you, and though it calms your mind somewhat to have someone speak so soothingly to you, it takes a while longer for your breathing to steady. He doesn’t move, keeping his arms locked firmly around you.

“I think we need to see someone about this, honey.” He mutters quietly, carefully; thumb rubbing along your cheek soothingly. “There’s no shame in it, okay? I want you to know that. There’s no shame in seeing someone about this.”

You sniffle as you nod, eyes scrunching closed as the last of the gasps settle into something a little less harsh and finally, finally, your body releases the last of its rigidity and you melt into his embrace, exhaustion weighing your movements.

“What do you need, baby? Let me help you.”

“You.” You whimper, turning further into his hold and inhaling his familiar scent. “I just need you.”

He loosens his hold for only a moment, leaning to hook a hand under your ankles and then he’s bringing you across his lap to tuck you deeper into his arms. Heat seeps through your clothes and pierces through the chill covering your body as warm hands slowly, soothingly, rub up and down your back.

You stay like for what feels like hours, cuddled tightly and comfortingly in his embrace. You’re not too sure when you fall asleep, exhausted from your episode and wrapped tightly in Frankie’s arms, but it’s not until you feel a slight movement under you that has your eyes are blinking open, taking in the familiar surrounds of Frankie’s bathroom.

Your head moves from its resting place on Frankie’s firm chest, the arms wrapped around you relaxing as you shift. It’s dark beyond the bathroom window, and a quick check of your watch shows you’ve been in here for just shy of two hours.

“Morning sunshine,” he murmurs light-heartedly, eyes blinking tiredly at you as you sit up. He winces as he moves, the aftermath of sitting in one position so long on an unforgiving surface now rearing its ugly head. But he’d do it again in a heartbeat, over and over. For you, only for you. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” you admit quietly, eyes downcast and unable to meet his. You were ashamed. He shouldn’t have had to see that. You should’ve been able to bury it. You were weak –

His reassuring touch has that thought being shoved to the back of your mind as he helps you up from the floor, hands guiding your sides as you stand on unsteady feet. Fingers pinch your chin and gently tilt your face up, his gaze flickering across your face.

“Do I look ugly?” You deadpan, eyes feeling incredibly raw and swollen. You definitely look like a mess – no doubt about it. How could you not, after something like that?

His smile grows, fingers moving, trailing across your cheekbones and along your jaw tenderly. “Never.”

You smile before you can help it, the stretch of it pulling at your tight cheeks. His heart warms as you grin shyly.

“Shall we have dinner? Watch a movie? Whatever you want…”

“That sounds good.” You agree quietly, unable to keep the smile from falling as he pecks your nose playfully.

He stays close, standing right by you as you wash your face, the cool water shocking to your skin but surprisingly pleasant, and cleansing away the leftover mess of dried tears. He’s ready with a soft towel when you straighten, dabbing it gently over your face before he’s whisking you away and leading you downstairs. His hand doesn’t leave yours until you’re both in the kitchen.

Automatically you move for the cooking utensils and start to prepare, but are stopped in place when he steps in front of you, a small frown of disapproval pinching his brows.

“No.” He takes the chopping board from your hands and nods to the counter, raising his brows when you don’t move. “I’m cooking, and you’re staying there. Now up.” His hands fly to your waist, helping you slide onto the surface and then he’s moving about the kitchen, turning the oven on and grabbing ingredients from the fridge.

You watch him fondly, chest tightening every now and then when he would catch your eyes and send you a little smile.

“I love you, Frankie.” You say softly, watching him pause and gaze at you, your chest so full of gratitude and love you feel it could burst at any moment.

He drops what’s in his hands and comes to stand in front of you, slotting himself between your legs and cupping his hands gently below your jaw. His warm brown eyes burn directly into your soul, your heart picking up as he leans in to kiss you gently.

“I love you.” He mutters against your lips, sealing his tenderly spoken promise with one more sweet press of his lips. You melt into him, lashes fluttering as he pulls back. “Forever. Do you hear me?” He watches a smile curl at your lips, stomach turning pleasantly as it brightens your features. “No matter what that says–” he pokes a gentle finger against your forehead, “–I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t shy away from the tears that build in your eyes this time, instead thankful they came from a place of love rather than pain. His thumb smooths the one lone tear that had escaped away, and kisses where it had fallen on your cheek.

“Go and pick something to watch while I plate up.”

You do as instructed, picking a random movie from Netflix before snuggling under a blanket and smiling when Frankie comes in soon after balancing two plates in his hands. Everything’s quiet as the movie starts in the background, Frankie snuggling close to your side as you both half pay attention to the screen while you eat.

Once finished, the plates are moved to the small coffee table and you both wind around each other under the blanket, arms and legs intertwining, and Frankie’s fingers always somewhere on your body tracing soothing circles or lightly tickling any skin that peaks out from between your clothes and relishing in your quiet giggles.

It’s when the movie finishes, the room plunging into darkness, and when Frankie’s breathing deepens to an almost snore, that you finally feel the remaining fog lurking at the back of your mind dissolve. You stay awake, long after Frankie dozes off, basking in the love and affection that still pours from him even when sleeping.

Things would get better.

It would take time, of course, but the storm would clear.

Everything would be alright, especially with Frankie by your side.

+

Tags: @anu-simps​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @withasideofmeg​ @you-got-me-starry-eyed​

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x gn!reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x gn!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Lavender Lace

Pairings: Tom Holland x Femdom!Reader

Summary: Edging Tom (no plot whatsoever which is super rare here cause I’m a slut for plot)

Warnings: Edging (male receiving), unprotected sex (because it’s a fic and there is no pregnancy or STD’s unless I say lol), Dom!Reader-Sub!Tom, Creampie, Cockwarming, Reader doesn’t cum (sorry)

Word Count: 1860

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so I’m sorry if there are any words that autocorrect changed. I looked through and changed the ones I saw but just in case I missed any, my apologies!

Part 2 out now!

______________________

Tom lied on the bed, hands tied up above his head to the bed frame. His beautiful body was on full display against the sheets, small freckles adorning his taut skin. A glistening layer of sweat made every dip and rise of his body shine deliciously, his defined muscles exaggerated by the light shining off it. His chest heaved up and down as he attempted to calm himself down yet again and his biceps flexed as he pulled against his restraints. “Fuck! Please, please please…” His voice was broken and desperate- but not quite desperate enough.

“Awe, Tommy. You’re doing so well,” you cooed, rubbing your hand lovingly across his firm thigh, “But I think you can go a little longer.“

Tom groaned in frustration, his cock already painfully hard and leaking precum. He hissed and bucked up into your hand when your hand went back down to pump his impressive length. Your hand glided up and down, adding a twist at the top around the tip. “Please-”

You stopped your movement but kept your hand still on his member, shaking your head, “No cumming until I say.” You chided, voice gentle in stark contrast to the torture you’d been putting him through for the last hour. Tom’s hips bucked upwards again, desperate for release, making you chuckle, “Look at you. So handsome. So desperate.” After a few moments, his breathing calmed down and your fingers circled feather light across his pelvis and down over his thighs, “Let’s get you a little more desperate.”

Tom shook his head, “I need to cum. Please, please let me!”

You almost felt bad for your boyfriend. He looked almost in pain and you really did want to please him more than anything but you also knew that he loved this torture. If he really wanted you to stop, he only had to say the safe word. That weird simple little word had yet to leave his lips, which meant the fun could go on, guilt free.

Your middle finger circled his tip, so agonizingly light that he couldn’t tell if you were there or his brain was just creating sensations to cope with the torture. “Just a few more, love. Think of how good it will feel when you finally get to cum.” With that, you licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of his length before taking only his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue, lapping up the abundant pre-cum that had been practically pouring out at this point.

Tom pulled at his hand restraints aggressively, “Agh!” He almost screamed out as you brought him to the edge yet again with only small kitten licks to his tip while you stroked his shift with your hand. Tom was so painfully close, it only took mere seconds before he was crying out again.

“I’m gonna cum!” He warned and you took your hand off completely, causing him to cry out. You crawled up his body, kissing a line up along the way. You made sure that his cock rubbed through the valley of your breasts, concealed by a lacey lavender push up bra that did wonders for your chest. When you made your way to his lips, you straddled his waist, just above where he needed you most, and kissed his lips.

“What number was that?” You whispered lightly into his ear.

His eyes opened to find yours only mere inches away and he could have cried. You looked beautiful. Sultry, sexy, confident. Tom, on the other hand, appeared to be a few seconds from tears. His big beautiful chocolate eyes were practically black, pupils blown so wide they nearly overwhelmed his entire irises. His brown curls stuck to his forehead from where he’d attempted to desperately bury his head in the pillows. “Nine.” Tom managed barely, only able to focus on the intense pressure between his legs.

You kissed him again, lifting yourself off him just enough to move the thin fabric of your thong aside before sitting back down, his length sliding between your slick folds as you rocked your hips.

“Fuck!” He hissed out, eyes screwed shut. He had already been so close that this alone almost sent him over the edge.

Your nails scratched lightly over his chest as your ground on him. You moaned a little when his head bumped your clit as he passed through your folds, so close to finally being inside you. “You’ve been such a good boy, Tommy. Where do you want to cum?” You asked, reaching over his head to untie the scarf you’d had him bound by. Immediately, his hands were on your hips.

He timidly asked, “Inside you?” Even after all these years together and the fact you were on birth control, it was still a request he felt weird making.

You smiled against his skin as you licked up his neck, still moving your hips against him, “You can cum inside me when I hit ten, understand?”

“I don’t think I’ll make it. I’m already s-so close.” Tom stuttered when he felt the tip of his cock finally slide into your warmth.

You squeezed your walls around him, just to torture him a little more, “You’re gonna have to, love. If you cum before I say, I’m gonna have to stop and ruin it.”

A genuine look of fear ran through Tom’s eyes and you knew he’d behave for you. He wanted this - nay, needed this - so badly. You began to bounce on his length, his cock rubbing against every wonderful spot inside you. Your hands came to your breasts, palming them through the thick fabric of your bra. “One.”

Tom’s hands struggled to stay on your hips, knowing you might edge him longer if he stepped out of line, “Let me touch you.” He begged and you only nodded, reaching for his hands and placing them on your breasts. He pulled the fabric down and raked his nails gently over your nipples, making you breathe out in pleasure.

“Two,” You moaned out, “Three.” You kept bouncing and you could feel him twitch inside you. “Four. Five.”

“I’m not gonna make it. I’m so close.” Tom was almost crying, legs struggling to stay still as he used every ounce of willpower to not let go here and no. He was so close, all it would take was a millisecond of losing concentration to snap.

You slowed down and just sat on him yet again, not moving but clenching your walls around his aching member and he audibly whined, “You’re gonna make it or I’m gonna get off and leave you writhing on the bed. Then you can watch while I finish myself off. That what you want?”

He shook his head aggressively, his hands moving back down to your hips to keep you in place, “No, no, no! I’ll make it to ten!” You noted the movement of his hands and maybe if he hadn’t been so well behaved all this time, you would have punished him a little more for trying to take control but you could see in his eyes how painfully desperate he was, how hard he was trying to be good. You wouldn’t punish him for it - this time.

“Good.” You began to swivel your hips, just like you knew he loved it and he threw his head back into the pillows, eyes shut tight as he struggled to keep his composure. “Six. Seven.” You reached down and ran your thumb gently across his cheek where an actual tear slid down, still moving on his cock, still drawing this out, “Eyes open, love.” Tom struggled to comply, knowing that one of the only things keeping him from busting right this second was trying to take his mind anywhere but this situation. Seeing you looking so damn sexy bouncing on his cock was sure to send him over. But he managed to pry his lids open and lock eyes with your blown out orbs. You bit your lip and smiled, “You’re doing such a good job. Eight.”

“Shit!” A broken moan tumbled from his lips as he flexed every muscle in his body to keep it at bay. He was gonna snap and there was nothing he could do about it, especially at this painfully slow pace you’d been counting at.

“Nine.”

Tom’s heart raced as he waited for that last number, that last bit of permission before you would let him finally release. He didn’t think he’d ever been this painfully hard and it made him look back at every other time he ever thought he had blue balls and smack his past self. He had no idea what it was like to be this achingly close. “Please, please-”

“Ten. Cum for me baby.” You finally allowed, raking your fingers down his body, making sure to graze over his nipples.

The orgasm hit him like a semi, crashing into across his body hard and fast the very moment you permitted it. “Agh! Fucking hell!”! He was nearly sobbing, his hands squeezing tightly into your hips and bouncing you up and down at just the right pace. Again, something you let slide. He had just been so good for you, he deserved it. His seed shot deep into you, warm and overflowing and waves of pleasure just kept coming. Tom didn’t think he’d ever cum this hard or long in his life, himself surprised when more and more hot ribbons seemed to just. Keep. coming.

Finally, he slowed down, arms slackening weakly against your thighs as he came down from his high. He was still sheathed inside you, his seed leaking out around his cock, down his cock and along your inner thighs. You had never been so full and you didn’t want it to end. You leaned forward, coming to lay on his chest, head in the crook of his neck. When you moved, your walls instinctively fluttered around his sensitive cock and Tom hissed, his grip suddenly tightening on you as the stimulation became too much.

Once you had positioned yourself comfortably on his chest, he wrapped an arm around your body, rubbing large stripes up and down your side. You twirled his hair in your fingers and listened to his wrecked breathing with a bit of pride knowing you made him feel this good. “You did so good for me, Tommy.”

He sighed heavily, “Thank you.” You giggled a little, knowing his brain was still moving a little slow. He wasn’t thanking you for the compliment- he was thanking you for finally letting him cum.

“Wasn’t too much?” You asked, hoping you didn’t go overboard. Logically, you knew he’d use the safe word if it was too much but you just wanted to be sure you hadn’t gotten a little too lost in the power.

Tom shook his head with a chuckle, pulling you closer into his body, hissing yet again when your heat shifted around his overstimulated softening length. “Just right. Any more and I might have died, though.”

You both laughed at his joke before you cooed in his ear, “Oh, love, you can take it. We’ll just have to break your record next time.”

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #sub!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #dom!reader #sub!tom x dom!reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #Arvin Russell #arvin #arvin russell smut #arvin russel #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x you #arvin russel imagine #arvin russel imagines

[hkblack]

Thoughts on Beta-Reading and Squeeing

So yesterday I answered an ask from @anonymousdandelion, and I mentioned at the end there was something I was going to pull out and make a separate post out of. Here's what we're talking about today:

"And, when betaing for someone new, I also often ask if they’d like non-constructive reaction comments ("AAAAA THEY’RE TOO CUTE”) as well as actual suggestions."

I'm glad you ask before doing this, and maybe some people will decide that I am the wrong beta-reader for them after I say this but I don't ask permission to gush or squee. I just do it.

This is because I do not consider these types of comments to be "non-constructive" at all. In fact, I would actually argue the places where I leave positive/gushing comments are some of the strongest pieces of constructive criticism I can offer.

I think we, and I'm speaking very broadly here, think that con-crit needs to be about what you've done wrong and how you can make it right. But the whole point behind con-crit is to give feedback, rooted in specific examples, to help the other person improve. If you only focus on what someone does poorly you are missing the opportunity to tell them what they are doing really well.

There are a lot of of things that I, as a writer, am pretty bad at. No one is perfect. Some of my favorite fics are full of gorgeous imagery, written in a way that feels like poetry, that I do not think I will every be able to emulate. But if I focused on that, I'd stop writing pretty darn fast.

One of the things I think I'm good at is dialogue. I have a document of just dialogue snippets that pop into my head, devoid of any other context. Little conversations between characters, that maybe one day will grow into something more.

"HK, if you're already good at it, why improve it?" Because perfection is a myth, and I write fanfiction as a hobby. My hobbies should make me feel good, not bad. And every time I level up my dialogue game, I saunter like a demon headed vaguely downwards to Hell.

Part of the reason I think my dialogue is so good is because I had someone tell me when I was a younger writer that it was. In fact I have their comment saved on my computer forever. They told me:

When your characters speak to each other, I feel like I'm listening to a movie. You're so good at finding their voices and making them jump off the page and into my brain.

LIKE I EVEN PRINTED IT OUT. I did! I shoved it in a box of memorabilia that I have. WHAT KIND OF AMAZING COMMENT IS THAT?! Pardon my language but that's some fucking peak shit right there. Were they exaggerating? Yeah, probably. Or like, they were also pretty young and perhaps they just hadn't experienced better writing yet. I went and dug out the old fic they gave me this comment in regards to and sure the dialogue is pretty solid but the fic as a whole is a dumpster fire. Does it matter? Absolutely not because that comment just made me so confident for so many years about my dialogue writing that I definitely got better just by doing it more.

Now, I'm currently working with a beta-reader on one of my own WIPs. My reader flagged a certain character's dialogue a few days ago saying "You don't necessarily need to change this, but this tone of voice is just a tad bit more Character C than Character R."

Does that sound like a bad note to you? Not when I have the strength of "I feel like I'm listening to a movie" bolstering me. When I read that comment I don't see "Oh no, I did a bad!" I see "I've done such a great job of establishing distinct tones for these characters, readers can tell who is talking before the /said so-and-so"

I see it as my job as a beta-reader to gush about the moments that make me feel feelings, the places where the writing is good, or where someone did something particularly skillful with their writing. Because those are the moments that they are already good at. And they can use the knowledge of what they do well to help fix the things they don't do so well.

In writing, as in life, we cannot be great at everything. What we can do is know our strengths and play to them.

Additionally, I think comments like "Oooohhh, whatcha doing Character W? Where you going?" provide helpful insights to the writer about what their readers are getting out of a particular moment. The same Beta-Reader left a comment of "I sense some foreshadowing!" during their first read through at a moment that was not, actually, foreshadowing, and more just me trying to roll around in imagery. Which clearly I did not do very well if they think it's foreshadowing and I was just like "ha, cause it's the same picture as this, get it?" Because they left that comment, I had been sitting on that section for a while, so that when they went back for the deep dive read and went "wait, HK, what is this supposed to be about? Because...It isn't foreshadowing" I was better able to communicate what I wanted the moment to be, and we were able to have a more productive conversation about solutions. The fix, by the way, not only fixed that specific moment, but created a stronger thread for another theme and it gave me goosebumps once I realized what I had done. All that from an enthusiastic comment that wasn't necessarily a "productive" comment.

Plus, let's be real, sometimes we go into beta'd fics and see just a laundry list of things our beta-reader left going "wrong its/it's" and "delete this space" and "this sentence doesn't make sense" and "whoops! I think you got x wrong here!" and even if it's all for the sake of getting our writing to a better place, it can be demoralizing even when it's all said tactfully and from a place of good intentions. Comments that just gush can make even the most stone-hearted writer feel better about themselves and their writing.

Anyway. Summary of all this is, do not undersell the constructiveness or import of "AAAAH THIS IS SO CUTE" comments from Beta-Readers. Those comments are often the most valuable comments you can give.

#from the ask box #fanfiction #beta reader #fanfic #editing #beta reading #HK's Beta Reading Tips

[love-amihan]

PLS I READ YOUR PROMISE FIC WITH JUNPEI AND IM SADDDDD 😭😭pls can you possibly do an alternate happy ending where junpei does survive or just fluff for him💓

| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |

TRUST // YOSHINO JUNPEI

amihan's note: you got it nonnie!! the first op scene scarred me emotionally, here's our bestboi doing his best! happy reading!

summary: itadori yuji became a huge part of yoshino junpei's life in a span of a day. junpei putting his trust on yuji resulted to a more promising future ahead of him.

bf!junpei x gn!reader

"zenin maki, panda..." mei mei says after yoshinobu asked them why they insisted on meeting with him.

aoi soon continues her words, "fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, yoshino junpei, and my brother itadori yuji. these are the six, that i, by my name as todo aoi..."

mei mei fixes her hair following aoi's words, "and i, by my name mei mei" the two utters in sync declaring the goal for the meeting, "...recommend for first grade"

nobara looks back at the three boys she’s currently with, “quit being a slowpoke.” you smile at nobara, “let’s calm down now, there’s a lot of sale we haven’t check out yet.”

nobara looks back to you then at the three, she huffs and links arms with you, “you guys are lucky they’re with us or else i would’ve beaten all of you to pulp,” she excitedly walks with you to yet another store that’s having a sale.

“but they’re my partner,” junpei mutters, looking at the two’s retreating back, hand reaching out that’s full of shopping bags.

yuji chuckles at junpei’s misery, “you gotta get used to it, what’s yours is technically hers too.”

junpei’s mouth drops looking at yuji, “for real?!” the two started conversing, voices getting a bit louder. megumi walks ahead of them, blushing from embarrassment.

“junpei,” yuji nudge his side lightly, the three are ahead of them leaving them a little behind.

he hums quickly glancing at him before looking back at you again, “about the ring,” junpei halts and gives his full attention to yuji.

“what? something wrong?” the pink-haired asks, also stopping. junpei looks down, his shoulders dropping, yuji’s eyes widens.

“you-” junpei didn’t let yuji finish the sentence, just answering him with a nod for confirmation. “that’s it! we’re helping you!” yuji exclaims, full of determination.

“help with what?” megumi pipes in, hands in his pockets. “junpei’s proposal!” yuji smiles at megumi, his usual stoic face faltering after hearing the news.

junpei punches yuji’s arm lightly, blushing from the bold statement. “i’m not proposing!” he turns to megumi clearing the confusion, “it’s a promise ring.”

megumi lets out a small ‘oh.’ “what’s the difference?!” megumi rolls his eyes at his friend, “there’s a big difference.”

you appear in the scene together with nobara who’s glaring at them. “difference with what?” you skip beside junpei, giving him a small smile.

he shakes his head, nervously laughing, “it’s nothing.” you squint your eyes at him making him look away with a small blush.

you hum not wanting to push further, “wanna get ice cream?” you reach out for his hand intertwining your fingers with his.

nobara clicks her tongue, arms crossing over her chest, “boys and their stupid talks.” she turns around leading the way, “she’s extra cranky today,” yuji mutters staring at her retreating back.

you shrug, giving yuji a soft smile, “menstruation maybe?” yuji lets out an exaggerated ‘oh.’

junpei laughs a little while patting yuji on the back, “this is why you’re not popular with girls,” junpei says as yuji looks back at him.

“you’re starting to act like nobara too!” yuji looks at him, frightened. “it’s the truth,” megumi adds in and follows nobara, “and you guys are supposed to be my friends” he mumbles, looking dejected.

“at least, y/n’s nice to me.” you put on a sweet smile, “well truth hurts, yuji.” his lips forms into a pout, walking ahead not before muttering “bullies” under his breath.

the first years are summoned by satoru saying he has another mission for them, “he said it's top secret,” megumi informs them.

nobara shakes her head, “when wasn’t?” yuji soon changes the topic while making their way to ijichi's car.

“nobara’s good with planning surprises,” he says out of the blue causing for the rest of the first years to raise a brow at him.

“the promise ring,” the two boys nods in sync, understanding him. “ring?” nobara slightly tilts her head to the side.

junpei nods at her, pulling out the box from his uniform showcasing the ring. “this... for a promise ring?!” junpei rubs the back of his head.

“is it not nice for a promise ring?” nobara shakes her head, her eyes sparkling from admiration. “you might as well propose to them with this!” junpei blushes at the thought, “don’t be ridiculous, we-we’re still young!” he stutters in panic.

“oh come on, they will say yes,” she gives back the box, “no doubt about it."

junpei looks away, tucking the box back in his uniform pockets, “you never know that” he mumbles, yuji interrupts by clapping his hands together.

“we should make a plan,” in which nobara agreed on, “i’ll do it since it’s y/n.” junpei looks back at nobara and shakes his head, “you really don’t have to,” she waves her hand dismissing his statement, “i’ve already decided.”

for the second time today, you almost tripped on something while blindlessly reaching out.

yuta is doing an awful job telling you where to and not to go, “i'm so sorry y/n” he bows his head even though you’re blindfolded.

he didn’t know how he ended up being the one to assist you when he's really bad at communicating with others, “we’re almost there” he informs you.

you don’t know what to expect since there wasn’t anything special today, your birthday is still months away.

“what's with today yuta?” you face where you think he was which yuta corrects, “it won’t be a surprise anymore if i tell you.”

that didn’t stop you from trying to know until you feel one last little push, “huh? yuta?” you aimlessly try to find him until you feel someone take both your hands.

you try to retract your hands but stop once you hear a familiar voice, “it’s me,” junpei’s soft voice reaches your ears.

junpei slowly removes the blindfold off you, you blink trying to clear your blurry vision. once you did, you see all the effort and preparation put in all of this.

flower petals are thrown everywhere, fairy lights decorating the tree, to wrap it all up love songs softly playing in the background.

he's always been the romantic type and he never fails to amaze you every time, you look at him with pure adoration in your eyes.

you start to panic holding his hands, “i-is it our anniversary?!” you stumble with your words, feeling terrible for forgetting such an important milestone.

junpei shakes his head, smiling at you, “i wanna give you something, darling” you nod and wait for him to continue.

“y/n, my love. you’ve been with me through everything, may it be a pleasant or bad memories, you're always there by my side. you’ve always come to pick me back up to my feet when i'm down..." he takes a deep breath.

he continues, "what i’m trying to say is… will you grow old with me?” junpei looks into your teary eyes, “i want to be by your side until my last breath, you’re my everything y/n” he opens the box and showing the ring.

“of course i would baby,” you hold his face and close the gap between the two of you, kissing him passionately.

after pulling away, he slide the ring on your ring finger. “this is just to seal our promise, you better fulfill them” he sniffs and chuckles at his shakiness.

you lightly hit his arm while laughing, “you know that i would” he kisses the back of your hand admiring the ring.

“this is beautiful darling, you’ve always been a sweetheart” you hold his hand and look around.

“i love you” you smiled at him, “i love you more” he pecks your lips, the group coming out from their hiding spot.

clinking of glasses echoes the room accompanied by loud cheers of best wishes. yuji swings his arm around junpei who's laughing with you not long ago.

“you remember junpei?” both of you look at yuji, a little lost with his sudden outburst. “when we helped you with your first proposal?” yuji’s words are slur as he continues to rant.

“ahh that does bring back memories,” you smile at the thought, you bring your hand up and look at the ring.

“and now look at you!” yuji starts getting emotional, the alcohol may have started to kick in. “two of my best friends will get married soon,” he sniffs, tears now running down his face.

nobara laughs at drunk yuji while maki scolds him for drinking too much, it’s amazing how the group stayed together throughout the years.

even after graduating, all of them, including you knowing how they grew fond of you, making sure to stay in contact.

junpei smiles in malice, he decides to add more on yuji’s emotional state, he pats yuji’s back as megumi assists him.

“go and have your rest, best man.” yuji looks at junpei with big puppy eyes, his brain processing the information before breaking out in tears.

“be-best man?!” toge laughs in the background holding two thumbs up while panda stops maki from pouncing on toge for fuelling on junpei’s actions.

the group is already in their twenties yet one thing that never changes is how chaotic it has always been.

they really did bring out the best of junpei, you remember how he finally opens up to them and how he warmed up to the second years during the kyoto goodwill event.

it was tough for junpei at first, his experience would be best described as how yuta was treated back in his 1st year.

but the big difference is that junpei has yuji, with yuji's persistent approach and friendliness they soon take a liking of junpei.

the group feels more like a family than a bunch of friends in junpei's eyes, well for all of you.

it's a little family who you can freely express yourself to. he especially got close to toge, they talked about movies, planned pranks on the other students, they’ve made really good memories alongside each other. thus, toge’s antics rubs off on him.

you giggle and look down at the rings, it’s beautiful seeing them together.

“daddd, i’m already grown up” your child whines at junpei who’s babying him, “no, you’re not” he denies as he fixes your child’s collar.

the two of you are now married and have a child together, “come on now dad, stop that” you tease junpei, siding with your child.

the kid flashes a big smile and runs to you, jumping in your arms sticking their tongue out at him.

junpei huffs, crossing his arms and faking to be upset. “guess you won’t get ice cream later,” his tone in a sing-song manner, knowing their weakness.

the kid gasps loudly and looks at him with the most betrayed expression, their little banter is soon interrupted by a greeting.

“junpei-sensei!” one of his students greets making you smile fondly at the sight, he’s really come a long way.

his students who've always looked up to him and respected him. they never miss a chance to greet him outside the school, junpei smiles at his students greeting them in return.

this is yoshino junpei’s simple life, married to his first love, a small family with them, a supportive group of friends he made through the years, and finally a job that he loves doing.

this all happened because of the one decision he made that changed everything for the path ahead of him.

all because he put his trust on his long time friend, itadori yuji.

copyright © 2021 by love-amihan all rights reserved. do not repost in other platforms. reblogs are welcome and highly appreciated! <33

#jujutsu kaisen au #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #yoshino junpei #jjk junpei #yoshino junpei x reader #junpei x reader #junpei x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #yoshino junpei fluff #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #fandom;jjk #jjk;junpei #request/s🍯

[chan-skz]

Going back the way we've come

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Summary: You didn't want to go, but forced by your parents, you gave in. Your relationship with Hyunjin hadn't started very well, after reuniting years later, you realized that a lot of things had changed. but for some reason, you couldn't push him away.

Words: ~ 7.5k

Genre: Fluff, smut (around the end), slight angst

Warning(s): Making out, Oral (f receiving), Fingering, Kinda raw language, Semi-public, Light choking, Light overstimulation, Teasing under table

Note: This is part of the christmas collab I'm doing w/ @hanflix and many other writers. I tried my best to give it a holiday vibe, but I guess I totally failed hahah.

A/N: This is the longest fic I've ever written for now, and I also tried my best in writing it, so I really hope you'll enjoy it! English isn't my first language, so I'm really sorry if there's any mistakes or non-senses.

Your fingers tightened around the collar of your coat, the cold breeze gently hitting your face. You cursed yourself for not having listened to your mother when she insisted for you to take a scarf, arguing that it would be colder than usual.

"Fuck winter." You said when you got back under the shelter of the bus stop, collapsing on the bench next to your bestfriend, where he was sitting.

"Hi to you too, Y/n." Jisung laughed.

"Sorry, really not in a good mood." You said, glancing around, noticing that besides you, there were few other people waiting for the bus.

"Do you want to talk about it though?" He continued.

"Well." You began, sitting correctly on the seat and turning to him, announcing your long speech in advance. He knew you by heart. "I argued with my mom about a stupid decision she and my dad made. They want me to spend Christmas Eve with them and some old friends of theirs! Do you realize that? I don't even know them! She told me they had a son of my age and that I was bestfriend with him when I was younger, as that would some how change my mind. Christmas is supposed to be between families, not strangers."

"Are you done?" He asked when he saw you cross your arms against your chest and sigh even more on the bench. He was really trying to keep from laughing at your despondency. "It's not funny Sungie! I'm really serious!" You complained. "How did I found myself having to spend almost a boring evening with complete strangers?"

"You could come and spend it with me if you really don't want to spend it with your parents' friends." He suggested.

"Are you serious?" You asked, suddenly straightening up, hope shining in your eyes.

"Will your parents accept, though?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No." Your mother firmly refused.

"But why!" You whined through the phone, kicking your foot at the pile of snow in front of you, in frustration

"Because Christmas should be celebrated with the family, honey."

"Family.. We don't even pass it between real family." You whispered to yourself, rolling your eyes, before setting your gaze on your best friend who was still waiting for you at the entrance of the high school.

"It's not the same thing!" She exclaimed loudly through the phone, forcing you to move your phone away from your ear. "Do you really want to stay with them on Christmas Eve anyway?"

"But Jisung offered it to me! He even told me that his parents wouldn't even mind!" You exclaimed in your turn. "You yourself know how much they love me!" You added in hope that it will change her mind.

"It's still no, the discussion is closed." She concluded, before hanging up on you. You sighed in frustration, kicking one last on the snow pile before turning back to your best friend. You weren't in the mood it was clear.

"So?" Jisung asked as you approached him.

"She said no." You answered, walking past him to enter the school. "But don't worry, I'm going to keep pushing when I get home, she says the discussion is over, but I'll keep pushing the subject."

"You really don't want to spend it with their friends, do you?" Jisung chuckled when he saw how persistent you were.

"As they say, perseverance always pays off." You gave him a smile, letting him know you weren't going to drop the case that easily.

"Yeah, but I don't think that's gonna work." Before you could answer, a group of girls down the hall caught your eye. You glanced at each other in disbelief as you approached your group of friends.

"What's going on over there." You asked curiously, as you opened your locker to deposit your things in.

"Ah, just a new student." Jeongin just shrugged, not looking away from his phone, too focused on his game.

"Damn, he's this special to create so much enthusiasm." You continued, taking your books in your arms before closing your locker and leaning against it.

"I heard he was handsome, rich, tall. The pure cliché you know." Changbin added, earning amused looks from all of you. "What? I only rehearsed what I heard, I didn't even saw the guy yet."

"My only question is who would get transfered to a new school a day before winter break? It's so unlikely." You were curious to know who this new kid was, since he already had girls at his feet when it's barely been a day since he arrived.

"I really don't know." Changbin shrugged. "But I also heard he was from your hometown. You must know him."

"No luck, I don't even remember a lot of things from back there." You were still a little surprised that he also came from your hometown, but despite all that, it didn't change your opinion of him.

"Merry Christmas!" Felix came out of nowhere, dressing ridiculously in rudolph. Totally his type. You couldn't help but burst out laughing at his outfit. The day before, you all had agreed to dress in a holiday theme, but it was clear that someone surely hadn't understood the real concept.

"What the fuck, Lix." Jeongin said, finally turning his attention away from his game to judge his friend. "When I suggested yesterday that we could dress like it was Christmas, I didn't actually mean to dress up like this."

You kinda felt bad for Felix as he looked disappointed at the judgment of the youngest.

"Rah, you are so boring." Felix said, crossing his arms over his chest before pretending to sulk.

"Okay, pass me your red nose." You added, rolling your eyes as Felix's face lit up.

"It's good now?" You asked rhetorically, placing the red ball on yours.

"Looks like a real clown now. Your makeup wasn't enough, but with that nose you really look like one now." Jisung said amused, making the whole gang laugh, except you obviously.

"I swear to you that one day I'll kill you." You threatened him, hitting his forearm causing him to whine in pain.

"Ow- damn you hit real hard-"

"Y/n? Y/n Y/l/n?" A familiar voice called you out, making everyone turn around. You then suddenly found yourself facing a guy that neither of you knew. You surely assumed to be the new student.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" You had to admit that the fact that this tall guy knew your name freaked you out.

"Don't you recognize me? Hyunjin. We went to the same elementary school." The so-called Hyunjin indicated, making you frown at his words. But your brain still didn't seem to recognize him despite how hard you tried to remember who it could be.

"I'm so sorry, but you must be wrong on the person. I really don't know you." This time you raised an eyebrow and looked him over from head to toe. You couldn't deny that he was handsome, even though you didn't know him.

"He's from your hometown, there's a chance he's right." Chris pointed, once the guy had left. You sigh in exasperation. "I don't remember him anyway. So whether he's right or not, it doesn't really matter."

You threw yourself on your bed, almost screaming into your pillow in frustration. Again, you tried to convince your parents, but it was a complete failure like this morning. They were really determined that you go with them, even though you had made it clear to them that you didn't want to. You spent long minutes looking at your reflection through the mirror in your bathroom. Did you have to wear a dress and full makeup to go to a stupid Christmas dinner? Obviously, it was your mother who forced you.

The red dress she chose for you was quite tight and followed every curve of your body. But it was either that or nothing, since you would've been allowed to wear something more comfortable. Everything had to be perfect, you rolled your eyes recalling the words of your mother, and also of your father. You didn't understand either why you had agreed to wear high heels, your feet were hurting horribly and the freezing winter cold really didn't help your situation. It was snowing and you were forced to wear these heels anyway, that's how your parents exaggerated. Luckily, there was no ice, otherwise you would've tripped and humiliated yourself in the middle of the entrance. You were torn from your thoughts when the front door opened, and revealing a quite beautiful lady about your mother's age.

"Y/m/n!" The lady exclaimed with a big smile, softly giggling as your mother returned the same energy to her. She wasted no time to make you get in and hugging your mom and shaking your father's hand. Once you got in her facial expression only lit up even more.

"Y/n! Woah, you've grown so much!" She indicated by taking you in your arms too. "You've become so beautiful, I'm sure Hyunjin would agree." She said with a slight smirk. Hearing his name made you choke on your own saliva. You tensed, but managed to fake a smile, even though you were praying inside that you had misheard. Unfortunately for you, all your doubts were confirmed when you walked into the living room and found yourself face to face with Hyunjin.

"Damnit.." You cursed under your breath, when you came to sit on the couch in front of his and according to the face he expressed, he seemed to have heard you. Lucky for you, none of the other adults next to you seemed to have heard it. You could feel his intense gaze on you, and it lowkey made you anxious.

"Dinner's not ready yet, because we got too caught up at the last minute, so sorry." Hyunjin's mother laughed lightly. "I know the kids won't want to wait here all along, so maybe they could go do something else until it's ready."

If you could think that the night couldn't get any worse, you were completely wrong.

"Stop following me." Hyunjin suddenly turned as he walked up the stairs. Making you roll your eyes.

"I 'follow' you, because I have nowhere else to go and I would rather stay with you than stay with them for a second. Their 'good old days' really don't interest me." You crossed your arms against your chest, defying him with your gaze.

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes, before turning around. His room was quite large, almost double yours. You made sure to sit in the opposite side of the room. You then found yourself sitting on the sofa while he was lying on his bed, both phones in hand. Your phones keep you busy, making you forget the awkward tension.

"How could you not recognize me?" Hyunjin suddenly asked, distracting you from the video you were watching.

"Do I really have to?" You looked away from your phone to focus on Hyunjin, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed and facing you.

"Did I change that much?" He said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"We knew each other when we were kids, now we are adults, what do you expect? I can't recognize everyone I was friends with in my childhood at one glance." You said in a mocking voice. "I don't even understand why you keep pushing so hard for me to remember you, but if you really want to, just show me what you looked like when you were a baby. It would surely refresh my memory."

You didn't expect that he would actually do it. But your eyes widened when you saw the little boy in the picture. You recognized him right there. Your heart pounded at the realization, but you tried to pull yourself together. It was stupid to react so exaggeratedly just because you realized you were facing your childhood best friend, your first love. Finally you didn't really know if when you were young you really loved him, because after all, you were still kids, the meaning of love wasn't real known, nor understood.

"Stop Hyunjin, you're hurting him!" You yelled at him to let go of your friend's sweater, Chris.

"No! How dare he touch you! Only I have the right to give you a hug!" Hyunjin frowned, looking at you before quickly looking back at your friend, who just let it go, finding his jealousy quite ridiculous.

"But I was the one who gave him a hug." You started, finding his possessiveness frustrating.

You couldn't help but have a small smile forming at the corner of your lips at the flashback of this event. And you couldn't control your teasing.

"So how's your jealousy? Are you still so possessive of a temper?" You said amused, expecting him to becomes slightly shy and sulky as you pointed out his toxic trait, but what you didn't expect was for him to smile and look down on you.

"Oh, why do you want to know that? Unless you want me to show you what true possessiveness is." He smirked, looking you up and down. Your own smile faded as he watched you closely, making you feel oddly exposed to him in that tight, cropped dress.

"What do you mean?" You pulled yourself together again and asked, raisong an eyebrow.

"Well, I wouldn't have thought you would've had so many guy friends." His comment frustrated you for some reasons. After years apart, as soon as you meet again does he really have to get jealous over the fact that you have a lot of opposite sex friends? You really didn't like it.

"Does it even matter anyway?" You asked insistently. At your reaction, Hyunjin's expression changed, becoming more nonchalant again.

"Nevermind." He got up from the sofa he was leaning on and went to lie back on his bed. You took advantage of him not looking at you to detail him. You couldn't deny that puberty had blessed him, making him not only beautiful, but also extremely attractive. His hair, which he had dyed blond, was slightly messy, but enough to make it look quite classy.

"Do you like staring at me?" He asked rhetorically, but as you were about to deny, he continued. "No need to deny it, the trickle of drool at the corner of your mouth is proof of that."

Seeing your panicking face, he laughed out loud. Quickly running your hand over the corner of your mouth, you finally realized that he was only messing with you from the start. As you opened your mouth to clap back at him, you heard your mother's voice calling you from downstairs, informing both of you that the dinner was ready. Hyunjin didn't miss the glare you gave him as you sat face to face at the dining table. He could've simply ignored it, but the little smirk that appeared on your lips worried him slightly. He had a bad feeling.

Your parents were talking and laughing with each other, paying almost no attention to you two, which gave you the best opportunity to tease Hyunjin. For his part, he was frustered when he felt something caress his leg. Looking down he saw your foot caressing his leg, he wasted no time pushing you away, finding the whole thing quite inappropriate as you found yourself at the table with both of your parents. But you didn't give up, in fact you were determined to make him restless. You restarted your gesture, but this time, taking advantage of his man spread, you deflected your touching on his crotch. You knew he was going to lose his temper at this action and your doubts were confirmed when he jumped at the feeling of your heel pressing against his crotch.

"Hyunjin, are you okay?" His mother asked, slightly worried. You could see a pinkish tinge forming on Hyunjin's cheeks and you had to admit he was so cute like that.

"And yes, y-yes. It's okay, I just banged my knee against the table, sorry." He managed to convince the others. After all, he wasn't going to openly say that you were touching his dick under the table. Stop that, he mimicked, his gaze changing dramatically to become more firmer, but it only made you keep going, finding his reaction funny and extremely entertaining. Suddenly he got up from the table, apologizing to your parents and pretending he wasn't hungry, so he could get away from that family dinner. Not wanting to be alone with them, you did the same, sighing in relief when you in turn managed to sneak out of that Christmas dinner. Except you weren't expecting to be tackled by a pretty angry Hyunjin from the moment you stepped into his room. You then found yourself stuck between him and the wall, his arms placed on each side of your body, blocking you from escaping from his grip. Besides his tall figure, which made him quite intimidating, didn't help your case.

"If you were so desperate for my cock, you should've told me." He said in a dangerously calm voice.

"What are you talking about?" You manage to say, completely confused.

"Oh don't be innocent. You really think this is a game, don't you? Do you think teasing my cock around our parents is fun?" You bit your lip and your eyes widened when he grabbed your hand and put it on his bulge for you to feel it, which was quite hard.

"You feel it? Now I'm fucking hard." He said in a long sigh of pleasure, feeling your fingers trace his length. He then leaned against your ear, his hot breath giving you chills.

"From the moment I met you again, I knew straight away that I didn't want to just be friends with you." You still couldn't quite assimilate the situation you currently found yourself in and it was only when he leaned against your ear to whisper those words to you with his deep voice that you finally broke out of your thoughts. Suddenly you pushed him away, forcing him to pull away from you and step back. He looked at you completely lost, not understanding your sudden action and to tell the truth, you didn't understand what had taken you neither. You couldn't deny that this whole situation had made you slightly aroused, but it was too soon. No sooner had you met again than you already found yourself doing dirty things? It was going a little too fast for your liking.

"That-that won't work, I'm so sorry." You avoided his gaze in embarrassment. After a few moments of silence, you finally returned your gaze to Hyunjin, who was now looking at you completely detached. And to be honest, his expression hurted you, but you tried to hide it. You knew you ruined your evening, that's why you decided to end up speanding it with your parents. It was quite boring, but at least it allowed you to escape the discomfort that would've been present between you and Hyunjin, if you stayed with him.

"And? What did you do?" Jisung asked excitedly. A few days later, you had wasted no time summoning Jisung, your best friend, to tell him what had happened to you. But no sooner had the story started than he was already feeling excited, obviously expecting you and Hyunjin to have done it.

"I pushed him away." You simply said, looking as if you didn't care about it. Even though a few days later, you were still mentally slapping yourself for pushing him away so coldly. While deep down, you wished things had turned out differently.

"What did you do?" Jisung repeated slowly, his excitement fading.

"I pushed him away and even told him that it wouldn't work between us." You closed your eyes, anticipating his reaction.

"Oh my god, I have never known a girl so stupid." Jisung said in exasperation. "You literally had the chance before you and you didn't even take it."

"I know!" You pouted. "It's just that I realized this when it was too late. I was in the living room with my parents, you really expected me to go back to his room and take back everything that I said and did to him?"

You concluded ironically before crossing your arms against your chest and sighing in exasperation.

"Well that was an option that you unfortunately didn't take and which could've prevented from finding yourself in this situation." He dramaticallyraised his hot chocolate cup to face, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm seriously starting to regret telling you this story and even offering to go out. You really aren't helping me."

"It's too hard not to judge you when you literally make so many stupid decisions, sorry." He said, chuckling at your annoyed reaction. "Ah, by the way, I almost forgot to mention it, but Changbin is throwing a new year party tomorrow and he told me to force you to come."

At the mention of a party, you whined. You didn't like parties, you preferred to stay at home, doing nothing, rather than partying among people you didn't know.

"Tell him back that despite you forcing me, I'm not coming." You said directly.

"Please, for once come on. And it'll help you to forget about your night with Hyunjin." Jisung begged you. It was very rare that you attended parties organized by your friends, one because you didn't like the vibe, but you also didn't understand the usefulness of getting high and drunk. But coming to think of it, not only did you want to forget the shit you had caused, but you also felt like getting wasted.

"Fine."

You scrambled through the room, the wave of dancing people glued to each other began to make you sick. Your glass in hand, you passed through all these people, until you finally got off the dance floor. You shiver slightly when you feel the light cold breeze brush your exposed legs. You were already regretting having put on such a short dress. It wasn't really ideal to go out so exposed, but it was the only evening dress you had.

"Looks like you're bored." Felix's deep voice surprised you, making you jump.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed in surprise. almost dropping your drink. "You scared me."

You hit his forearm, making him laugh out loud.

"No, but seriously you look really bored." He said, calming down. You just nodded, it was true that you were slowly starting to regret coming. Your dress that bothered you, the alcohol that took too long to hit you, and the cold freezing were all the reason of it.

"Do you want to come with me play truth or dare? Changbin and the other boys were organizing it." He proposed to you, not failing to see you looking with disgust at the gathering of people completely wasted and grinding on each other. You accepted, telling yourself that it might change your mind. You didn't know this kind of game was still being played at parties, but you were curious enough what kind of dares and truths other players will throw themselves into. Obviously, you should've expected to see Hyunjin as soon as you set a foot in the room, which seemed to be Changbin's room, accompanied by Felix. Other than this one, Hyunjin and even Changbin, you didn't really know the other participants, but even then you cursed yourself for not thinking for a second that Hyunjin might be there too. You blushed slightly when you noticed him contemplating your body shamelessly. You thanked the lord for making the room a little dark, only a lamp on the floor on the floor litening the room.

"Y/n!" Changbin exclaimed with joy when he saw you, glad you came. Coming to hug you, only to ruffle your hair.

"Stop." You giggled. "You ruined my hairstyle." You pouted.

"Ohh, it's okay, you're beautiful the way you are." He said, making you blush. Changbin treated you like his little sister, his way to make you comfortable no matter the situation would always surprise you. Your interaction didn't go out of Hyunjin's attention. From the corner of the room he watched you silently, paying no attention to the girl beside him who was desperately seeking his attention.

"Are we starting or not?" Felix complained loudly, drawing attention to himself.

"We're just waiting for Jisung and Jeongin." No sooner had Changbin finished his sentence than your two friends entered the room, their arms laden with drinks.

"To spice up the game!" Jisung exclaimed as he placed the bottles on the ground, beside the circle you had formed. You had hesitated for a moment to sit down, your short dress really bothering you, obviously you didn't want others to have an easy view of your panties. You were then offered by Changbin his jacket to cover your lap, clearly having noticed your struggle.

"Thank you." You smiled at him, before kneeling on the floor and covering your legs with his jacket.

"Ok, we all know the game rules, right? But this time, if you don't want to answer the truth or don't want to do a dare, you're going to have to take two shots of vodka." Jeongin vaguely explained. "Okay, I'm starting."

He leaned over to spin the bottle, stopping in front of Changbin.

"Truth or dare." Jeongin asked with a smirk at the corner of his lips. It was in those moments that his inner devil was coming out.

"Truth." Changbin said. "I don't trust you enough to pick dare when it comes to you." He added suspiciously.

"What's your body count?" Jeongin asked, ignoring his friend's comment.

"Do I need to have slept with them?" He asked, waiting for the clarification of the younger. He took time to think.

"Then I think around 15, if not even more." He nodded. Hearing this number, you almost choked.

"15?! What the hell?!" You turned to Changbin, your eyes widening. "You better spill the tea, mr.Don Juan."

The game went on, you had to admit it was pretty funny seeing some people taking two shots of vodka and gradually get drunk just because they didn't want to do something, or even see some people do of ​​stupid things. Well, until Hyunjin's turn came and he had the misfortune of being told what to do by Jisung.

"Truth or dare, Hyunjin." He asked him with a smile, which the world that didn't know him might consider innocent, but knowing him very well, you knew he was up to no good.

"I guess, dare?" He answered.

"I dare you to make out for a minute with the girl you find the most attractive in the room." As soon as Jisung's words came out of his mouth, his turned gaze to you. You rolled your eyes when you had eye contact with your best friend. Seeing how the girl, who was sitting next to Hyunjin, looked quite pretty and looked so interested in him, you expected him to turn to kiss her. But you were a little taken aback, when he got up to approach you to kneel down in front of you, ignoring the complaints of the girl you think was one of his fangirls at school.

"Wait what?" Your eyes widened, completely lost. Your heart quickly started race up as you saw him lean towards you.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked quietly. You really didn't know what to add, you were literally wordless. Subconsciously, you started to nod your head gently, giving him your consent. When your lips touched, it was as if no one existed around you. The exclamations of surprise that other people around you were expressing went over your head.

Hyunjin's lips were soft, the kiss you exchanged was initially passionate, but the longer the seconds passed the hotter it got. Without thinking too much, you wrapped your arms around the older man's neck, pulling him closer to you, as he grabbed your hips. Too absorbed in each other, you hadn't noticed that the minute had already passed and it was only when Jisung called you out that you finally came out of your reverie, instantly detaching yourself from Hyunjin.

You blushed slightly when you felt a light trickle of drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, you pressed to wipe it off quickly with the back of your hand. Hyunjin, for his part, just licked his lips, giving you a smirk, knowing that this action would destabilize you even more. Clearing your throat afterwards, you for sure wanted to divert the attention others had on you, while Hyunjin, sat down next to you with a big smile on his face, not caring that all the attention was on you. After all he had finally kissed you, which he had wanted to do since the dinner with your parents, so nothing else mattered. Your thoughts wandered elsewhere as the game continued its course. You couldn't think of anything other than Hyunjin's lips on yours, his kiss had made you lose your head. Your mind was engulfed in unhealthy thoughts and it didn't take you long before you felt yourself being drowned by your own mind.

"I-I think I'm going to go." You huffed, feeling a pleasant, but quite uncomfortable heat growing between your legs. You were clearly starting to feel bad. You didn't give Changbin or Hyunjin time to speak as you got up and quickly left the room. The loud sound of the music playing backwards was much more audible once in the hallway, it's precisely at this moment that you could gradually feel the influence of alcohol washing you off. Luckily for you, you found the bathroom easily.

"Y/n?" You heard Hyunjin calling you, but you didn't pay him any attention to him when he hesitantly walked in. You were propped up against the bathroom counter, staring at your reflection through the mirror, it was easily recognizable that you were not feeling well. Your cheeks were red, your breath quickened and your eyes slightly narrowed.

"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly, approaching you, but he resigned himself when he saw you stepping back when he tried to come closer.

"Stop playing with me." You finally said, turning to face him. You couldn't help but slightly laugh bitterly when he looked at you in confusion, obviously not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Seriously Hyunjin, what do you want from me." You rolled your eyes, "You tell me straight up that you want more than just a friendship with me, when it had only been one evening that we met again. Things have changed Hyunjin, I've changed, you've changed. We're not the same as when we were still children." He was silent for a moment, looking deep in his thoughts, before he resigned himself to saying something.

"I understand that we are no longer children. And from the moment I saw you again I understood it very well. You must think I'm talking nonsense, but just seeing you and talking to you again last time, I don't know why, i had the same feelings i had when we were young."

He stopped talking to approach you slowly, making sure first that you weren't going to distance yourself from him.

"I'm very serious. I'm really not trying to play with your feelings, nor you in general." His gaze reflected a slight sadness. He was genuinely afraid of being rejected by you, even after his speech.

"How could I believe you?" You asked, hesitantly whether you should take him seriously or not.

"If you give me a chance, I swear I could prove it to you." You felt butterflies in your stomach at his words. You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it immediately, you really didn't know what to say. And he looked pretty determined.

"I hope you're not going to make me regret it then." You manage to say. At your answer, his face lit up. He was anxious that you would reject him, that you would tell him that his 'confession' was absurd, but he felt a huge weight off his shoulders at your words. His gaze wandered over your lips for a few seconds, before he glanced quickly behind him.

"I-" He started slowly, looking suddenly slightly embarrassed. "Can I kiss you?"

His question made you smile for real this time, finding his reaction rather unexpected and ironic, given of what had happened earlier.

"Really, Hyunjin? You literally kissed me in front of dozens of people and now you're getting all embarrassed." You teased him. "So cute."

At your last comment, his expression changed dramatically. Suddenly, he leaned over and grabbed your chin, forcing you to lock your eyes with his.

"Me, cute?" He tilted his head to the side, his gaze languishing in your face, as if to memorize every detail. "You sure about that?" All trace of embarrassment had disappeared from his attitude. He looked more than serious and you couldn't deny that you liked this new facade of him.

"Why don't you show it to me then?" You didn't know where that line, or even that daring, had come from, but you didn't complain when Hyunjin's lips rested on yours for the second time that evening. The kiss was way more intense than the one you had shared earlier. Hotter and more eager. You gasped in surprise as Hyunjin grabbed you by the back of your thighs to lift you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. Your dress, which was already short, rose at this gesture, giving him easy access to your ass. Placing yourself on the bathroom counter, you were slightly disappointed when he pulled away from you, breaking your kiss. You looked at him with puppy eyes, as he turned around to close the bathroom door and lock it.

"Just making sure we won't be disturbed." He smirked, taking full notice of your desperate look. He wasted no time before stepping back between your legs, his lips joining yours for a warm kiss once again.

"Fuck, you don't know how many times I've fantasized about being like this with you since the last time." He whispered in admiration, as he kissed the path up to your neck, where he teasingly bit your soft spot which he found easily. You suppressed a small moan at his gesture, your fingers venturing into his long curls and pulling them gently. You could tell he liked it by the deep moan he made.

"You left me so hard when you ran away last time." He straightened up to look at you straight in the eyes, the sheer desire burning through his gaze making you feel in a certain way you could describe as sinful.

"I was afraid I had done something wrong when you pushed me away. I even felt bad for getting so excited after you teased me under the table in the presence of our parents." The tone of his voice clearly reflected nostalgia.

"But don't feel bad. I just panicked at the time." You smiled at him, passing a hand on his cheek to reassure him.

"And if I'm being honest, the situation got me excited too." You confessed shyly. Your revelation relaxed him slightly, but also boosted his confidence.

"Really?" He asked rhetorically, stroking your thighs with his fingertips. Your heart race increased as he rushed to drop hungry kisses down your collarbone, wasting no time slipping your sleeve, giving him a perfect access to the base of your breasts.

"Fuck.. Please..." You moaned, wiggling lightly against him, begging him for more, which made him smirk in satisfaction. You were as desperate for him as he was for you.

"My baby is so impatient. So sweet." He chuckled, visibly enjoying seeing you so hopeless for him to touch you intimately. It didn't take him long before he decided to finally slid his hand between your thighs, easily finding your clit, his fingers rubbing it so skillfully.

"I can already feel your wetness." He bit his lower lip, his dark eyes focusing on your face contracted with pleasure. You were so beautiful.

"Lay down." You were torn from your little cloud of pleasure again, when he removed his touch from your panties to remove it entirely, exposing your soaked pussy to him. You leaned back as he ordered, leaning back against the mirror behind you and opening your legs wide for him to give him an easy access to what he wanted the most right now. You knew seeing yourself so exposed and vulnerable just for him, hugely turned him on. The visible bulge on his crotch being the proof.

"You look so fucking good, baby." He said, licking his lips, obviously pleased pf the way you were already dripping just for him, when he barely touched you. Not breaking eye contact, he knelt between your legs, gripping your thighs to keep them firmly open, before languidly licking your cunt, stickinf his tongue inside of you. Your fingers found his hair again, gripping it tightly when Hyunjin suddenly began to suck on your sensitive swollen clit. You couldn't stop a few moans from escaping, even though you were trying the best you could to not to be too loud. Your hips subconsciously bucked against his face, forcing him to wrap his arms around your hips so that he could stabilize you moving too much. He intended to make you scream his name with pleasure and he wanted to do it the right way. You felt like you were losing your mind when the way he was eating you out changed, getting much more rougher and hungrier. He then suddenly slipped a finger, then a second, inside you, touching your weak spot with every pump and strock of his fingers.

"Hyunjin.. Too much.." You moaned, squirming more and more under his grip on you with each of his moves. Your thoughts were clouded with pleasure, dizzying your mind. You couldn't think properly anymore, only your orgasm, that you could feel was getting closer and closer, was the only thing you could think about. The tension, which you could feel building in your lower abdomen, exploded as Hyunjin once again eagerly wrapped his lips around your clit. Your eyes rolled back, as your orgasm washed you away, making you moan loudly in ecstasy. Seeing you come around his fingers and his mouth didn't make him stop his movements. You had to beg him to stop when it got too much for you to handle. His mouth and chin were almost dripping with your juice, giving his lips an delicious shine. You felt empty when his fingers slipped off you, but you ignored it, straightening up quickly and pulling him back into a sloppy kiss, where you clearly tasted yourself on his tongue. Your hands were hanging from the waistband of his pants, which you delicately untied during your erotic exchange. You desperately wanted to feel his cock, which you could feel was already hard enough, between your lips and at the very thought, you could feel your pussy getting wetter than before.

"My good girl is so desperate for my cock?" He whispered between your lips, the sudden nickname and the hand that came wrapping around your throat made you feel much more excited and eager for him. You moaned slightly in contentment at the pleasant feeling he made you feel just by his actions and presence. You went to answer him, but was cut off by what happened outside.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Happy New Year!" The loud mixed voices of people still partying echoed throughout the house. At this understanding, you looked at each other for a few moments, before involuntarily bursting into laughter.

"New year, new girl, which means new resolutions. That's all I can say about it." He said, giving you a wink full of innuendos. Blushing, you couldn't hide the smile that crept onto your lips.

"I think it's the same for me then." You declared in admiration in your turn, matching his vibe.

"Good, because I have every intention of making up for the lost time." He whispered seductively. "In every sense of the word." His last words gave you shivers of anticipation. You knew you were in there for a long ride. After all, maybe the special connection you had as a kid hadn't changed at all.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids smut hours #hyunjin smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #skz hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut hours #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #kpop smut

[gryffindormischief]

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A/N: For @clarensjoy's hinny fic fest! Used a bunch of prompts and had so much fun. Thank you for organizing Clare! Thank you for the read @fightfortherightsofhouseelves

Also happy Hinny kiss day to all :) :) :) :)

FF and Ao3

----

Lee’s annual not Halloween “Fall Costume Party” has already ticked over into hour two when Ginny begins to seriously consider Harry has stood her up. Which is a pain in the arse in her situation because Harry not showing places isn’t just an easy “oh my fiance is a selfish prick” event. He could be bleeding and half dead in a ditch, locked in a dark wizard’s creepy basement, hanging from the side of the Gerkin with a tiny scared muggleborn in his arms, or any other number of heroic unselfish and decidedly un-prickish activities. In case that seems an exaggeration of Harry’s day-to-day exploits, not a single one of those events was an invention of Ginny Weasley’s admittedly active imagination.

In fact, two out of three happened the day of their engagement party.

Plus, Ginny knows he’s not a selfish arse. Generally, Harry Potter is a considerate and loving partner who’s unselfish almost to a fault. And really, if Ginny is honest with herself for half a second, all this ruminating on Harry and his failings or lack thereof is just one big fat distraction from her worry that he is in fact, lying somewhere in a ditch, etc.

Because if she is directly thinking about it, but doing so in a logical and occasionally cheeky manner, her heart won’t pound and her palms won’t sweat and tears won’t rise to her eyes when her engagement ring glints under the low orange lights.

She’s wondering whether another shot of firewhisky will make things better or worse when a low voice sounds from over her shoulder. “Did you get my note?”

A grin - wide and uninhibited - rises to her lips. She doesn’t turn yet. Just savors the warmth that runs through her now that he’s here. Engagement aside, she can’t let him know just how soppy he makes her, so she laughs quietly and shoots back, “Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping. Plus anyone outside of work you’d be with is here.”

“Pardon me for my thoughtfulness. You’re not always the most observant, Gin,” Harry says, now directly behind her and close enough that his breath catches wisps of hair that escaped her plait. “For example, you were supposed to wear a costume. A shoddy wig doesn’t count.”

Ginny sighs and tips her head back to rest on his shoulder, blinking up into his green eyes. “I am wearing a costume - look at my jersey. I’m Harry Potter. The Chosen One, Youngest Seeker in a Century, The Boy Who Lived - twice. Biggest claim to fame - Ginny Weasley’s #1 Groupie.”

He snorts.

“Ring any bells - wait.”

Harry lifts his brows as Ginny twists away to face him fully. “Is that a cat onesie?”

“Uh, no,” Harry sniffs, doing an excellent Percy impression, “I am Mrs. Norris.”

Some sort of brain numbing dance hit blares over the speakers and Ginny feels as if her entire body will vibrate with the base until her insides are repurposed as outsides. Harry reaches for her, but doesn’t guide them from the room, just pulls her closer.

Ginny takes full advantage of the situation, enjoying the view of his long wiry form on the way and then getting her first hand reminder of the feel of him up close and in person. He might be dressed as a cat, but damn if he doesn’t turn her to mush and light her on fire at the same time.

When Ginny manages to refocus, resettling her haphazard wig, Harry seems just as lost as she was only moments before. She runs her fingers along the braid that sticks from beneath her wig and twists over her shoulder, grasps the tip, and proceeds to brush it back and forth across Harry’s nose. He wrinkles his face up and squeezes her waist. “What gives?”

She fiddles with the zipper beneath his chin. “Nothing?”

Harry shakes his head, a smug grin rising on his lips that leaves her torn between dragging him off for a snog and smacking him. “Don’t get all cocky.”

"Nope.” Harry shakes his finger in front of her face. “I saw that. You just checked me out."

“I did not.”

“You think I’m fit - super fit,” Harry crows. “So fit that even a cat onesie can’t stop you.”

“I thought you were Mrs Norris,” Ginny says archly. “Besides, it’s not embarrassing to think your fiance is fit.”

Snickering, Harry leans in and kisses her cheek, snuffling when the cheap wig hairs tickle his nose. Still, he manages to mutter, “It’s embarrassing when your fiance is essentially wearing footie pajamas.”

“How about we unpack you checking me out while I’m dressed as you?” Ginny snorts, tugging on the zipper at his throat just enough to pull him closer.

“Fine, let’s stick with we’re just super into each other.” Harry smiles. “I like you a bunch, Ginny Weasley.”

Ginny lets her hands slip to grasp his, their fingers locking together like puzzle pieces, as she pulls him further away from the undulating dancers. The thumping music is quieter, their dark corner almost beyond the reach of multicolored lights that swirl around the room. Soon enough, Harry’s back is pressed against the wall and Ginny is almost too close for him to think straight.

“Nice specs, by the way.”

Almost too close. But not quite. If he let Ginny’s nearness get the best of him as often as she was near enough to get to him, he’d be a blubbering mess 24-7.

“Thanks,” Ginny says, pushing the lens-free frames up her nose. “So. Hypothetically, if two people liked each other - ”

“You never said you liked me back.”

Ginny pins him with a glare and continues, “If two people liked each other, what would it take to get the stupid guy to kiss the girl?”

“Well I’m a cat right now, so I’m hardly an expert in the ways of human love affairs.”

“Wow, you’re choosing cheek over a snog in a dark corner?” Ginny smirks, “Or are you creeped out to snog yourself.  Might be kind of hot.”

“Except - ”

Ginny grabs the tip of his nose between her knuckles. “Yes, yes. You’re a cat. You could’ve been me. We could’ve done a couple’s costume,” she lets her eyes lose focus for a moment, “We could’ve snogged each other as each other.”

“That is sort of making sense to me,” Harry says, gripping her hips, "I think we need some time apart."

Ginny lets out a dramatic gasp, almost losing her precariously placed wig as she tips backward. “No! I almost have your brooding emo boy face down.”

“I take it back, I don’t want to get married.”

Immediately, Ginny’s face falls into a soft expression, eyes distant. “Sorry. Too late. We’ve broken each other in.”

“You’ve heard of the fallacy of sunk cost right?” Harry asks with a grin, the crowd dissipates a bit, a few stragglers stumbling toward the bar, most likely. Lee loves the unpredictability  of an open bar at his parties. It’s not just a focus on the temporary wildness, Ginny’s fairly certain he uses it to get show material, or at least ideas of who to bug to get as guests. Then a few carefully placed questions...

“I can guess,” Ginny rolls her eyes, “But we’re essentially ruined for anyone else. You really think someone else will find you hot in a Mrs. Norris costume?”

Harry’s finger shoots into the air as he lets out a triumphant, ‘HA!’ that’s still mostly muffled by the music.

“Plus all that effort. I’m an ‘old has been with sad dreams of grandeur’ now,” Ginny sighs.

“The irony that Rita Skeeter said that about someone,” Harry mutters, ending on a chuckle as he finds the tip of Ginny’s braid and fiddles with the strands.

“Gwen was angrier than me,” Ginny says as Harry brushes the end of her braid over her nose, “I’m twenty something and she’s close to forty.”

“Back to the main point,” Harry cuts in as he leans closer. “We’re not us because we have to be.”

“Elaborate?”

“I dunno, you could - that bloke from Quidditch Monthly is a fan,” Harry says finally, nudging her nose with his. Harry puts on a nasal tone and parrots, “Though Weasley rides a firebolt, this author finds watching her streak across the pitch akin to a shooting star.”

“Nah,” Ginny shakes her head, “Not my type.”

Harry reaches to fuss with his hair only to get a handful of faux velvet shaped like a cat ear. “No attraction there?”

“I’m attracted to you,” Ginny brushes her finger over his jaw before pulling his gaze back to hers. “Not some swotty bloke who waxes poetic instead of reporting on my gameplay.”

“Sunk eight shots in the first forty minutes that day,” Harry says.

Ginny surges upward, grasping the back of his neck. Between the two actions she brings their lips together for a short, biting kiss.

Long enough, though, that Harry’s a bit dazed when she drops back onto her heels. Honestly, dressing as Harry was her best costume idea yet. Especially if she dresses like ‘I can’t be bothered’ Harry, which of course she did, because she’s smart.

Harry blinks. “So me, as Mrs. Norris is more enticing and attractive than your biggest fanboy?”

“Don’t forget quoting my  Quidditch stats at me,” Ginny says with a wink. “And don’t sell yourself short, we all know you’re my biggest fanboy.”

He kisses her again. “Nonetheless.”

“Sadly, yes. You can show up in footie pajamas and apparently I still have the hots for you,” Ginny says, wistfully as she grasps the zipper on his onesie again, drags him close enough that their lips almost touch.

As she tilts her head back, Ginny lifts her free hand to hold her wig in place. Harry’s eyes dart upward, crinkle with laughter. “I would say I'm creepy for finding you this attractive in a me costume, but it’s really a pretty terrible costume.”

“Rude.”

Harry tugs at a loose tendril of her hair. “Yeah?”

She tugs the zip on his front down further and slips her hand beneath. “Yeah.”

Ginny clenches her fingers, gripping his t-shirt. Harry in turn, grasps her wrist. “What’cha looking for?”

“I’m just busy being disappointed that you’re not naked under there,” Ginny answers with a sigh.

“Wanna get out of here?”

In place of a response, Ginny grabs his collar and pulls him through the tipsy - drunken - mass filling the party and toward the floo. She turns, palm already open and waiting for Harry to drop his personal floo powder pouch into it. Instead, she finds Harry trying to fumble for the pouch through his onesie. “Alright there Harry?”

“Help?”

Ginny twitches her brow up. “Gladly.”

Her eyes don’t leave his as she slowly draws the zip down further, causing Harry’s breaths to quicken as she reaches inside and lower. Her touch lingers at the draw of his joggers for just a moment before turning toward the pocket and reaching inside. Ginny pulls it out and dangles the pouch in front of his nose. “Gotcha.”

Harry snatches it away and pulls Ginny tight to his side. He glances down, watching as she wraps her arms around his middle. “Get a good grip Mr. Potter.”

“Don’t let me go Mrs. Norris.”

Grimmauld Place is dark, quiet aside from the tick of the clock on the mantle behind them as Harry and Ginny stumble from the fireplace. Ginny turns to step further into the living area though Harry’s apparently not eager to let her leave his grasp. His arm stays banded around her middle, her back to his front and his lips increasingly enamored with her neck. And ear and - apparently just any bit of skin he can find.

“Take this off?”

“What?” Ginny asks, twisting around, her back arched away from him so she can look directly into his eyes.

“Ideally, as much as possible,” Harry says with a laugh. His touch rises to her hair, and then suddenly a rush of cool air hits her scalp as the admittedly terrible wig falls from her head. “But I meant that.”

Ginny winks. “You can leave your cat on.”

That brings Harry to a halt, his palms paused at her waist where he’s bunched her borrowed jersey. He blinks. “Really?”

His grip on her has loosened enough that Ginny can dart away and toward the staircase. Harry rounds the corner and follows her upstairs, taking them two at a time. Ginny turns back and grins. “Going to have to be faster than that.”

“I have socks for shoes, Gin.”

She shakes her head. “Too bad.”

Harry’s retort - whatever it was, ends with her jersey atop his head and her cackling laughter echoing from down the hall.

Eventually though, Harry catches up - if you ask Ginny it’s purely because she wanted him to - and the evening ends with all costumes discarded until the next time Lee has a bright idea about ‘getting the gang together.’ Ginny drifts to sleep, Harry snuggled close behind, just as the clock strikes the witching hour.

Ginny wakes hours later, a short enough time that it feels like she simply blinked, to an insistent tapping at the window closest to her head and increasingly frantic pounding at the door.

A grunt is the closest Harry comes to acknowledging the forces currently invading their sleep. Ginny prods his side, but he simply cuddles closer. She tries to wriggle away, muttering, “My hero.”

“S’just Ron,” Harry grumbles, then in a louder growl, “Ron bugger off. We’re engaged and tired.”

Another thud at the door and then Ron says, “Not according to the Prophet.”

Both Harry and Ginny jolt up at that, remarkably able to resist lingering on the swathes of skin revealed when they sit forward. Ginny turns when more taps sound at the window, there are at least three owls fighting for first access, Howlers smoking in their talons.

Ginny runs her hands through her hair, fingers catching on knots in the process. “Ron, what’s in the Prophet?”

“Apparently Harry dumped you last night.”

Harry kisses her shoulder and she can feel his grin against her freckles. “I most certainly did not, Ron.”

“Ew, please don’t sound so smug,” Ron groans, “And I know. You two are gross.”

“Stuff it,” Harry shoots back, pulling at Ginny’s elbow. “We’re tired.”

Another thud sounds at the door, likely the result of Ron kicking at it helplessly. Then a long sigh, “Me too, mate. Future reference, maybe keep the sassy faux break ups to non-public venues?”

Ginny twists beneath the sheets, slants her lips across Harry’s, feels his body waking against hers. “Ron?”

Harry groans. “Please don’t when things are picking up downstairs,” he glances at his lap.

“Ron, go snog Hermione - or buy some earplugs,” Ginny continues. When his muttering and footsteps fade down the hall, Ginny turns back to Harry. “And you, how about some ‘partnered relaxation techniques’?”

He pulls her atop him and tucks his hands behind his head. “Have at it.”

#hinny ficfest #blarg writes things #blarg writes hinny #harry x ginny #hinny #hinny fic #harry x ginny fic #harry potter #ginny weasley